


Take Back The Night

by Nygma42, Oswald_Nygmobblepot



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: AU, Abusive Relationships, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-03-05 01:46:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 42,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13377516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nygma42/pseuds/Nygma42, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oswald_Nygmobblepot/pseuds/Oswald_Nygmobblepot
Summary: When Kristen Kringle shows up at Fish Mooney’s Place on the arm of Officer Dougherty, Fish is immediately captivated by her, despite their brief encounter. Getting to know her may be difficult with jealous and belligerent Officer Dougherty in the picture, but Fish is nothing if not persistent.(Gif courtesy of Riddlerbird on tumblr)





	1. Chapter 1

[](http://i68.tinypic.com/mtvw2x.gif)

 

Kristen closed her eyes as she sat back in the passenger's seat of the car, her seat belt digging into her collarbone a bit more than she’d like, but she didn’t dare fiddle with it. Having such an experience before, Tom didn’t like it when she pulled on the seat belt too much. “It will damage the car.” Not that it mattered in her opinion, he had a nice dent in the front bumper from when he’d been driving impaired last week. She rested her head back against the seat, her arms wrapped over her stomach and for the millionth time that night she wished she could have just gone home, with her splitting headache from work, and the pulsing music in his car, she just wanted to lay down.

But Tom had asked her to come to his apartment, and he’d asked so nicely that she couldn’t say  no. She knew how the night would go, he’d invite her over, he’d watch TV, they’d order some pizza, he’d want to have sex and he’d immediately fall asleep after, leaving her to walk herself home after dark … In Gotham.  
  
It wasn’t as if she could stay there the night, he never wanted her too. She had once, stayed in bed and had fallen asleep after he’d passed out drunk after sex. He’d been rather unsavory in the morning, questioning why she had stayed. Had been rather angry she’d upset his morning routine, so now she knew better … It was better just to walk home. At least after she’d get to sleep in her own bed. So that was a plus, and the sex was okay …

“I just need to make a stop before we go to my place.” Tom said, turning the music down just slightly, much to Kristen’s appreciation. Though that no doubt meant he was picking up alcohol, which she didn’t exactly appreciate. But it was fine … A couple of drinks and he was actually fun to be around. She just hoped he didn’t decide to drink too much.

She smiled at him and nodded. “Okay …” She said before closing her eyes again.

“You okay?” He asked, noticing her hands folded over her stomach, and her eyes closed.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just, a bit of a headache.” She said, glancing over at him. She saw a slight smirk come over his face.

“Well, nothing a bit of sex can’t fix, right?” He asked, and she had to refrain from rolling her eyes. Sex was always his solution to everything. Sex and alcohol, but damn if he wasn’t gorgeous. Sure he had his flaws but … So did every guy. And he was better than the last three men she’d been with.

“Right …” She said flatly as they pulled down a side street. They stopped in front of a row of short buildings and she looked out the car window to see a dark window with a bright pink neon fish skeleton inside. “Is this … Fish Mooney’s club?” she asked looking at Tom. “Why are you here?”

“I just need to get some information, for a case I’m running. Come on,” he said as he got out of the car. Her anxiety raised as she got out after him.

“What do you mean, come on? I’m not going in there!” she said, and Tom gave her a look of disapproval.

“Look, I’m just getting some information from Fish, and I’d love for some of the guys to see you walk in with me,” he said, taking the few short steps towards her, his finger and thumb going to her chin. “You are so beautiful … You can’t blame me for wanting to show you off.” Kristen didn’t pull away from him as she looked up at his face. “Come on babe … It’ll be fast. If you want you can wait by the bar. It won’t take long.”

Kristen nodded before she quietly, dutifully, followed him inside. The club was lit, but empty other than a few employees, probably the ‘guys’ he wanted to see her. He pointed her over to the bar where there was a strange man with messy black hair sitting, pouring over a book with a pen in his hand.

“Oswald …” Tom said with a fake cheerfulness as he slapped Oswald on the back hard enough Oswald’s pen slid across the paper as he was writing. He’d have to redo the entire paper, and by the looks of it, it was several days worth of recordings. It would likely take him an hour to rewrite. “You’ll watch my girl for me, eh?” Tom said winking at him as Oswald smiled at him, making Kristen flinch slightly. By the looks of it the man’s teeth had been very bad at some point and he’d likely had crowns put on, and since then had tried whitening his teeth leaving him with a very odd variety of colours of teeth.

“Of course, Officer Dougherty,” he said. He certain was a twitchy little man, and seemed far too kind to be working in a place like this. Either that, or he was just frightened of Tom. And likely everyone else around here as well.

“Good man,” he said slapping Oswald on the shoulder again before walking over to talk to Miss. Mooney on the other side of the club.

Fish rose smoothly from her table near the front, her dress falling perfectly into place as she moved, clearly tailor-made for her exact proportions; it was too form-fitting not to be. All blood-red material and runway-perfect edges, strategic cuts in the design bearing far more skin than Kristen would ever have been comfortable with in public. Yet something about the woman, either in the regal way she carried herself, or her sharp piercing gaze that seemed to instantly notice everything of importance, or the sheer polished perfection of every detail from the gleaming talons of her nails to the designer shoes with heels tall enough to double as a murder weapon… Something exuded an aura of warning and of power. In a fleeting glance, Fish’s eyes took in the uncomfortably out-of-place girl hanging around by the bar, before she turned her attention to Tom.

“Dougherty,” she said with a slight nod of acknowledgement, and a small smile that betrayed absolutely nothing. “You picked an interesting venue for a date.” One that his girl seemed less than thrilled with. More likely, he'd just brought her along on business because he could. Men of small importance took their little power trips wherever they could get them.

“We’re actually headed to my place,” He said in a tone of implication. “She just doesn’t like staying in the car by herself. Such a dangerous city this is.” He said with a smile. “Though I have some business to discuss with you, I promise I won’t take up much of your time. Can we speak in private?”

Fish nodded. “I can spare a few minutes,” she told him, turning and striding toward a back room with a casual gesture for him to follow. She could leave Oswald to find out if there was anything of interest about Dougherty’s girl.

As Dougherty followed Fish out, he entirely missed a reproachful look from Kristen, who was left to awkwardly take a seat at the bar. “So,” Oswald said with a nervous little smile as he looked over at her. “If you’re here with Officer Dougherty, I suppose that answers the classic question of what a girl like you is doing in a place like this.”

Kristen slowly looked over at him, her eyebrows raised. “Are you … Flirting with me?” She asked, sounding almost offended.

“No, that wasn’t my intent,” he assured her quickly, a sudden look of nervous panic coming over his face. He certainly didn’t want Dougherty thinking that, for one thing. “I just meant that this doesn’t exactly seem like your scene.”

“Well, we’re not staying. Like he said we’re going back to his apartment.” She said, emphasizing that fact, not really believing that Oswald hadn’t attempted to flirt with her. “So it’s not like we came here for dinner, and even if we had ... It’s really none of your business, you don’t know me.”

“I didn’t say I did,” Oswald said with a defensive chuckle. Though from that small exchange, he had learned a little about her already. Namely, that she was smarter than her boyfriend, and not as much of a doormat as he would have expected either. “I was just making conversation. Seems like you too are pretty close.” Though from the way he’d seen Dougherty look at some of Fish’s girls, he could speculate how long that would last. “Did you meet at work?”

“Yes, we met at work.” She said, “You sure ask a lot of questions. What do you do here anyway? Are you Fish’s errand boy? Trying to get information on Officer Dougherty’s new girl?”

“Her umbrella boy, yes,” Oswald said a little sheepishly, with a sidelong glance at the papers Dougherty had ruined. “I assist Miss. Mooney with whatever she needs.”

“Umbrella boy huh …” She asked. “Sounds like a glamorous job.” She said sarcastically.

“Yes, well,” he said with a small smile. “Things around here are never boring.”

“I can imagine, working for Fish Mooney.” She said looking over as Tom came back into the room. She smiled at him kindly as he came up to her.

“You ready to go?” He asked as Fish came in, sitting at her table as she watched them.

“Yes, let's go.” She said as he put his hand on her lower back, leading her out of the bar.

Once the couple had left, Dougherty’s body language demonstratively possessive, though hers didn’t seem any less tense, Fish gestured for Oswald to come join her at her table. Oswald looked up at her and without hesitation moved over to her table, remaining standing at her side.

“Yes, Miss. Mooney?” He asked.

“Tell me about her,” Fish said, looking up at him expectantly, curiosity in her eyes.

Oswald had known why she’d called him over, and already he’d started calculating all the information he could on her. “I don’t know her name, she seemed quite withdrawn on information. She seemed rather uncomfortable with me talking to her. She works at the GCPD, she met Officer Dougherty there. They just started dating recently, and while she acts like she’s happy with him, she doesn’t seem entirely comfortable with him. She stated that she was going to his apartment, pretty much repeating what he’d said word for word which leads me to believe she doesn’t actually want to go there, but feels she has no choice. She has confidence, but doesn’t seem to show it, it dwindled as soon as he came near her. She seemed to have a very controlling presence around me, and a very submissive presence around him.”

“Interesting,” Fish mused, though it wasn’t out of line with what she might expect. She didn’t know why Dougherty’s girlfriend had left such an impression on her. But even when she was in an environment that she clearly wasn’t comfortable with, she had a sort of energy about her. “Did she say what she does at GCPD? She doesn’t seem like a cop.”

“I can only think of two positions she would be suitable for. Either as secretary, or records keeper. Seeing as how there are already two secretaries I can’t imagine the GCPD hiring for a third, and their previous records keeper just retired, so I would imagine she’s the records keeper.” He said, his fingers moving nervously over his jacket. “I can find out for you for sure, if you like.”

“Oh, I think your process of elimination was accurate enough,” Fish said, waving a hand. “But if you could find out her name for me, that would be useful.” Though she expected she would see Dougherty in here again before long, and could likely get that information from him if she needed to.

“Of course.” Oswald said with a nod. “I’ll have it to you before we open.” He said with a slight smile.

“I knew I could count on you,” Fish said, before picking up her glass of brandy and returning her attention to her records of debts collected. Even as she went about her business, the fleeting memory of Dougherty’s girl floated like a mist amongst the turning wheels of Fish’s mind, unobtrusive yet ever there in her thoughts. No doubt it had to do with her potential usefulness; it couldn't be anything more.


	2. Chapter 2

Tom came into the dining room, a beer in his hand as Kristen placed his plate on the table. 

“What the hell is this?” He asked, looking at the green vegetables and pasta on the plate. He put his beer down on the table at his place and sat down in his seat. 

“It’s good for you,” Kristen said, making a mental note of how many beers he’d had at this point, before going to sit across the table from him. It was just as well she was serving dinner now; better to get some food into him before he had any more. “You’re supposed to be watching your blood pressure,” she reminded him. 

“What are you, my mother?” He asked, taking a bite of the pasta. 

“No, but I’m pretty sure your girlfriend is allowed to care about you too,” she pointed out, trying the vegetables, pleased with how well they’d turned out. Not that Tom would appreciate it. She’d be lucky if he even tried them. 

Tom finished off the last of his beer and his pasta, pushing the plate away from himself and going over to the fridge. “Do I still have the leftover taco mix from last night?” He asked her, grabbing another beer and putting it down on the counter beside the fridge. 

“It’s still there,” Kristen sighed, resisting the urge to rub at her temples in frustration. Her headache wasn’t getting any better, but showing her irritation might piss him off. As she’d predicted, the vegetables were all shoved to one corner of his plate. She didn’t know why she even bothered. 

“Oh, found it.” He said pulling out the container and shoving it into the microwave. He turned it on and moved over to go pull out a bag of tortilla shells. Kristen placed her fork onto her plate and got up, stopping the microwave. She took the container out, took the lid off, dumped the contents into a bowl, and put it back into the microwave. 

“It could have been heated up in that container, you’re wasting dishes.” Tom said, going to the fridge and pulling out a brick of cheese and a container of sour cream. “Can you shred this for me?” 

“Sure,” Kristen said flatly with an annoyed look, taking her dishes to the sink. “Maybe next time I should just make tacos.”

“Oh don’t be like that.” He said going up behind her and wrapping his arms around her, kissing her neck. “I liked your pasta. It was good. And I like the taco’s you made yesterday. You’re a good cook.” He said kissing her neck again. 

“Hmm,” Kristen said, smiling a little in spite of herself as she leaned back in his arms, letting him kiss her neck. “Maybe I just need to take requests.”

“I’ll take anything but rabbit food.” He said letting go of her and going back over to his beer to pop it open. 

“So anything too healthy is out?” Kristen said, half amused and still half annoyed as she set about grating the block of cheese for Tom’s tacos. Admittedly, she hadn’t asked him beforehand what he wanted, so she guessed that was on her. And anyway, what did a little extra hassle matter if it kept him in a good mood?

“Meat is perfectly healthy, and I like that broccoli stuff you made. The stuff with the cheese.” He said pointing at her with the beer in his hand as he leaned against the counter. 

“Your arteries might disagree with that,” Kristen said with a slight eye roll. “But if it gets you to eat a vegetable every now and then, I’ll take it.”

“Don’t give me attitude Kristen.” Tom said warningly, coming a bit closer to her. “You know I don’t like that.” He said standing a bit too close before he went over to sit at the table. 

Kristen tensed, still not really relaxing as Tom moved over to the table, but she breathed a little easier as the space between them cleared. Things weren’t going downhill just yet, but it would take more effort on her part to keep his mood up. “Sorry,” she said, looking down intently at the cheese grater as it quickly moved back and forth over the block. When she was done, she brought everything over to the table for him.

He smiled up at her as she gave him his food, smacking her on her ass as she came near. “Thanks babe.” He said, pulling her down for a kiss. “Why don’t you go to my room, make yourself up nice and sexy for me, I’ll be in in a few.” 

“I can do that,” Kristen said with a small smile, relieved that the situation seemed smoothed over for now. She leaned in and kissed him back, before she pulled away to head for the bedroom.

It was nearly forty five minutes before Tom actually came into the room, the beer in his hand fuller than when she’d last seen him, and she wondered just how many he’d had. She’d last counted five, so this could be his sixth or seventh. 

“Hey.” He said kicking his shoes off, a bit unsteady on his feet. He pulled his shirt off as he made his way to the bed, tossing it onto the floor, his hands going to his belt and pulling it open. “I love it whe- your hair is down like that.” 

“And I love it when your shirt is off like that,” she returned, smiling up at him, the slight wave of her hair drifting over her shoulder, her pale green slip not really warm enough for how long she’d been sitting here. There was a slight sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach at the way he stumbled around and slurred his words, and a small, guilty part of her regretted coming over tonight. But she was into the evening this far without incident, and while the sex probably wouldn’t be stellar tonight, it would likely still help them both to relax.

Tom smiled as he dropped his pants to the floor along with his underwear, kicking them off before he knelt up onto the bed making it shift slightly as he climbed on. He crawled over her and pushed her back on the bed. “I love this slip.” He said, leaving sloppy kisses over her neck. “I’d like it better on the floor.” 

“That can be easily arranged,” Kristen said, hiking up the thin, silky soft fabric over her hip obligingly as she leaned into his inept kisses, her free hand trailing down toward Tom’s cock.

Tom moaned, thrusting his cock against her hand, and his hands went to her slip pushing it all the way up above her breasts, his mouth going roughly to her nipple. 

Something halfway between a yelp and a moan escaped Kristen’s throat, and she shifted uncomfortably under him, aroused enough at his touch not to risk killing the mood by saying anything about the roughness. Her hand worked over his cock, the pad of her thumb circling lightly over the tip as her hand stroked at the shaft.

Tom moaned as he batted her hand away from him and he moved to press inside of her, missing the first time. He pulled away from her breast and looked down, missing another time and got it finally on the third, the tip pressing against her. 

Kristen gasped, wincing in discomfort at the pressure and friction as he shoved his tip against her without further preamble. “Tom, please,” she stammered. “Take it a little slower.”

“It’s fine babe …” He said, kissing her neck and moaning at how good she already felt. “You know I don’t like it when you’re too wet.” 

“Tom,” Kristen winced, hardly wet at all, and extremely uncomfortable. If he went in this quickly much further, it was going to hurt. She tried to pull back a little, almost as if she could shrink back into the mattress. 

“Hmm, yes?” He asked, rolling his hips just slightly, nudging against her. 

She needed to get him to slow down, but was afraid to speak up and risk putting a damper on things while he was on top of her like this. In her experience, that would only make things worse. So she kissed down the side of his neck, nipping lightly at his ear, trying not to think about the discomfort. 

A quiet chuckle escaped him as he pulled out, rubbing the tip against her before pushing in again. “See, I knew you’d be into it, you’ll like it. It’s fine.” He said pushing a bit deeper, thrusting into her shallowly. 

Kristen gasped, her body tensing, though it was a little easier on her after he’d pulled out for a moment. Though that brief, unfulfilled rub of his hard cock against her clit left a quickly building frustration in her, and she was already worried that would never be alleviated tonight.

Tom practically lay on top of her as he pushed himself slowly further and further into her until he was fully inside of her. He didn’t even give her time to adjust before he was pulling himself out and he started thrusting into her repeatedly. 

There wasn't much she could do but ride it out, gasping under him, hoping Tom could last long enough for the discomfort to transition into something else, something she stood some chance of actually enjoying. But at the moment, despite the stabbing pressure of him thrusting into her without sufficient lubrication, she only felt her frustration growing unbearably inside her, the closest approximation to desire that she would get tonight, and she found herself pulling him closer, thrusting her hips back up at him despite the discomfort, struggling to feel something more than he currently deigned to give her. 

Tom smiled as she thrust up against him, he knew she would love this. She just sometimes needed a little push. He thrust into her harder as her hands gripped his shoulders and he could feel his orgasm building as he thrust harder into her. He groaned as he kept moving. “I’m so close.” He said, bracing his hands on the mattress below her. 

A small groan of frustration escaped her at those words, a sinking feeling that she wouldn't be getting off tonight. But the sound was easily mistaken for something else, and wouldn't irritate him or offend his masculine ego. She knew at this point that there was no convincing him to slow down or stop. Trying to slow down her own movement would be useless; he would overpower the attempt the same way he always did. So she bucked her hips against him faster in a desperate attempt to get something out of all the overwhelming friction he was inflicting on her. 

Tom kept moving and he lowered his mouth to her neck, nipping at her skin. “Come for me Kristen.” He said, loving the sounds she made when she came. 

Her frustration mounted to a point where it had her nearly in tears, and a part of her wanted to snap back that she would very much like to do that, if only he would give her a little assistance. But she knew that wasn’t how this worked, or what he expected of her. Anyway, there was probably something broken inside her, something cold or wrong that made it so hard for her to come. After all, Tom’s expectations had to come from somewhere. Presumably there were women who got off this way all the time. She wished she knew their secret. But in this moment, she knew what she had to do to appease his ego, and keep the tenuous balance of their relationship going for another night. Clinging to him as he relentlessly thrust into her, she let out a moan of genuine, desperate need, of longing, but not of satisfaction. It didn’t matter; Tom would interpret it differently.

Tom heard her moan, he loved how she could come on command like that, it was such a turn on and it always sent him over the edge. He groaned and tensed, coming hard inside of her. He thrust a few more times, riding out his orgasm before he collapsed on top of her. He stayed there panting a few moments, his cock softening inside of her, before he kissed her neck. “I love you.” He whispered, kissing her just below her ear. 

A little shiver ran through her at those words, and she embraced him tiredly, her hands running affectionately over his back. That affirmation, that reassuring swell of affection reached her even through the aching disappointment, and reminded her why she would always keep doing this. In that moment, in spite of everything, she felt safe and wanted. And as long as she could keep returning to that feeling again and again, she knew things would be okay. “I love you too,” she murmured.

\--- 

Oswald waited patiently as someone was talking to Miss. Mooney, he waited until they got up to leave and came up to her. “Miss. Mooney, I have that information you were requesting.” He said, standing next to her. 

“Oh?” Fish said, looking up at him, her chin resting on her perfectly manicured hand, eyes bright with interest. “Do tell.”

“Her name is Kristen Kringle,” He said, staying where he was. “She does work in the records annex, she’s been there for three years now. She’s been dating Tom for three months now, prior to that she dated Arnold Flass though that was very brief before he was arrested.” 

“Arrested?” Fish said, mildly amused. She wondered what a girl like Kristen, who presented such a clean-cut, almost bookish appearance and classic ‘good girl’ style, had thought about that. Though Fish had heard a little about Flass. By all accounts, he had never been too bright. Tom Dougherty, then, fit something of a pattern. “She certainly does know how to pick them, doesn’t she?” she said, with a sardonic shake of her head.

“It would appear so.” Oswald in agreeance. She’d never liked Officer Dougherty, or Flass for that matter. Both of them were rather unkind to him. 

Fish thought this new information over. Really, there was no reason why a girl she had only seen once and never spoken to should be stuck in her head like a melody, why she should remember so vividly the uncomfortable curiosity on her face, or the perfectly curled wave of her hair in that neat little ponytail, or the flair of her conservative yet perfectly fitted skirt. All the same, there was a potential practical benefit to spending a little time with a records keeper at GCPD, and Kristen Kringle, on a fleeting first impression, seemed like she might prove interesting as well as simply cute.

“Anything else you found out?” she asked.

“No, Miss. Mooney.” He said before he paused. “Well, I don’t know if this is of importance, but she usually works days. Her shifts sometimes vary but she generally works from eight until four, but sometimes stays late as needed.” 

“That is useful,” Fish smiled slightly at that. “Next time Dougherty comes in,” she said, expecting that he would likely stop by on business again in no more than two weeks. “Send him straight to me, even if I’m busy.”

“Of course, Miss. Mooney.” He said nodding as she waved him off and he headed back to work. 


	3. Chapter 3

It was, as Fish had predicted, exactly two weeks when Officer Tom Dougherty made his way into Fish’s Place again, and at a notification from Oswald, she quickly wrapped up a discussion she’d been in with one of her most effective, not to mention most long-lived, debt collectors, and went out to the front room to greet him.

“Officer Dougherty,” she said, with a small calculating smile of greeting. “Just the man I wanted to see.”

“Miss. Mooney.” Tom said with a wide smile, though he couldn’t help but wonder why she wanted to see him when he was coming to her. “A pleasure, as always.” 

“Before we talk business,” Fish said briskly. “I have a little favour to ask of you.”

“Of course,” Tom said, joining her at a table. “How can I help you?” 

“I’d like to get to know your girl a little better,” Fish said, leaning forward slightly over the table, her expression entirely innocent, though she knew perfectly well that he wouldn’t like this, and she did feel just a tiny hint of glee at his expense. “Since you brought her to my club, I need to be sure she’s trustworthy, now don’t I?” she asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “So I’d like to spend a little girl time with her. She can come have dinner with me tomorrow night. Make sure she’s here by eight.” That should allow enough time that, even if Kristen was unfortunate enough to be stuck working late, she would have no excuse not to attend.

“You want …” Tom paused. Of all the things he expected this was not one of them. “Forgive me, Miss. Mooney, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. She was uncomfortable coming in here with me and that was just to wait for me … I don’t think she would be comfortable coming in here by herself. She’s a scared little thing.” 

“I noticed,” Fish said, slightly amused at the memory of Kristen hanging timidly around the bar … but still with enough spunk to tell Oswald off. “But no doubt you can reassure her that she’s perfectly safe with me. Or do you think I would let something happen to her?”

“No, of course not, but she’s just so skittish.” He said. “But, I’ll bring her down.” He said sounding almost deflated. 

“There's a good man,” Fish said, knowing that, whatever protests or excuses he made, he really had no choice. “Now, let's talk business, shall we?”

— 

Kristen paused as she reached up to put one of the plates away, looking over at Tom who sat at the table with a beer. 

“She what?” She asked, stunned, the plate raised halfway to the cupboard. 

“Weren't you listening?” Tom said, irritated that he had to repeat it. He grabbed another beer from the fridge before slamming the door shut. “She wants to have dinner with you. And when Fish Mooney wants something,” he added bitterly. “She gets it.”

“I was listening.” She said annoyed. “I just don’t understand why. Why would she want to have dinner with me?” 

“How should I know?” Tom snapped. “Because she’s a bitch who needs to be in control of people all the time.”

“I won’t go … if you don’t want me to.” She said, she could tell Tom wasn’t thrilled with the idea. 

“Are you stupid?” Tom snapped. “That's not an option. You’ll go have dinner with her, so neither of us gets into trouble with her. And then things will go back to normal.”

Kristen flinched at the question, looking up at him. “Y-yes, okay.” She said shakily, honestly more scared of Tom than she was at the prospect of having dinner with Fish Mooney. “Then I’ll have supper with her.” 

“Good,” Tom said, still sounding irritated. “That's just great. Just don't do or say anything that will cause trouble, alright? And keep your distance.”

“What do you mean?” Kristen asked, suddenly a bit more nervous about it. “Cause trouble how? And what if she won’t let me keep my distance?” 

“You’ll keep your distance anyway,” Tom said flatly. “And just … don't say anything that will get us in trouble with the mafia.”

Kristen shook slightly but nodded. “Okay.” She said. “I’ll … I’ll try.” 

“You’d better,” Tom said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to have to clean up whatever mess you get us into.”

“I’m not going to get us into a mess.” Kristen said defensively. “Don’t you trust me?” 

“Of course I trust you, babe,” Tom said, pulling her over to him, more possessively than comfortingly. “It’s her I don’t trust.”

Kristen flinched as he pulled her to him. “I … Okay.” She said, nodding. “It’ll be fine. Is there anything I should know? Anything I should expect?” 

“She’s got a way of tricking people into saying more than they meant to, so watch out for that,” Tom said. “She may try to find about cases you’ve filed … Be smart about that. And if it comes up,” he said sternly, knowing that with Fish, it might very well. “You make it clear you’re already spoken for and you’re not into chicks.”

Kristen looked up at him, shocked. “What?” She asked. 

“Look, don’t go around repeating this to the wrong people, but she’s kind of a whore,” Tom said, his grip on her tightening. “I’ve heard she sleeps around all over the place, men, women, she doesn’t care.”

“Why would she have any interest in me? She can have anyone she wants. She’s Fish Mooney.” She said as if that were enough of a reason in itself. 

“Don’t be naive,” Tom scoffed irritably. “Sometimes people just want something to show everyone that they can get it. It’s not necessarily about you. Just don’t do anything to make her think she’s got a shot, or it’s your own fault if things get out of hand.”

“My …. Okay …” She said defeatedly, unsure of herself. What could Miss. Mooney really want with her? 

“You’ll be fine,” Tom said, kissing the top of her head, though his hands on her shoulders were painfully tight now. “Just remember who your man is and don’t do or say anything stupid, and  you won’t have anything to worry about.”

Kristen shifted slightly. “Ow, Tom, you’re hurting me.” She said trying to pull away from his hands. 

Tom chuckled darkly at that. “Oh, you know you like things a little rough,” he said, keeping his hands on her as she tried to pull away, squeezing his grip a little tighter to remind her who was in charge before he abruptly let go, only to pin her against the wall, one hand on either side of her. That bitch, Fish Mooney, may have taken control of the situation out of his hands, but he was still the man in this relationship. Kristen still belonged to him, and as long as she remembered that, things would work out fine. “You can be a good girl for me, can’t you?” he said, looking down at her. 

Kristen stared down at his chest, her back stinging a bit from where she hit the wall. He was just worried about her, that’s all. He was worried Mooney might trick her. “Yes …” 

“I thought so,” he said, though his smile was a little bitter, and in his mind he thought, ‘You’d better.’ “I’m just looking out for my girl,” he told her. “You don’t know the half of how dangerous this city can be, what people in Mooney’s world can be like. If you’d seen the things I’ve seen on the force, you’d understand.” He leaned in and kissed her, though even that was rough, aggressively forceful, crushing her back against the wall as he bit her lip harder than necessary. Then he pulled back, looking down at her with that forced, bitter smile again. “Why don’t you finish up with those dishes and then we can have a little fun, hmm?” It wouldn’t hurt to give her a little reminder of what that whore Fish couldn’t give her. Just in case.


	4. Chapter 4

Kristen stood nervously at the doorway, smoothing out her skirt. She’d fussed over what to wear and how to do her hair. Fish Mooney seemed like the type of person to appreciate first impressions, and since they hadn’t really met the last time she was here, this really was an actual first impression. Still, she knew Tom was driving her here, and she couldn’t make it look like she was going in for a date, so she was scared to dress nice. She wore her black shirt with the green collar, and a grey pencil skirt, her hair done up in her usual ponytail. She felt her stomach flipping with nerves as she looked back at Tom who looked non too impressed. 

She could do this … She could. She took a deep breath as Tom started to pull away, adjusting her glasses as she went into the surprisingly quiet club. This late at night the club should be in full swing, but glancing around, she saw no one … Except for a large burly man near the door, a man behind the bar, and Oswald sitting with the same book he’d had last time. 

She paused as she saw Miss. Mooney sitting at a table and she swallowed nervously.

Fish smiled back at her, seeming fully at ease even as she took in Kristen's nervous little glances. Considering how anxious the girl seemed, she was remarkably composed, as if she was far too used to uncomfortable situations. From that first brief sighting, Fish had gotten the idea that, despite their very different styles, Kristen was, like her, very intentional in the way that she dressed, so Fish took a moment to look her over and make some quick speculation. From Kristen's hair, in that same perfect, neat yet flattering ponytail she had worn before, to her choice of mostly dark colors, to that business-like little pencil skirt, she had evidently gone for conservative, unassuming ,and no-nonsense. Though that pop of green at her collar brought out her eyes, and though a pencil skirt did tend to keep one’s legs together by necessity, it also flattered her figure. So, then. She wanted to seem unapproachable, but still make a good impression. Of course, most people who came to meet with Fish Mooney did. 

Fish, conversely, had gone a different route with her fashion choices for that evening, her signature tight little dress a peacock blue that always looked striking against her skin tone, vivid sapphire and emerald jewelry in gleaming gold settings sparkling in the dim light of the club. 

“Right on time,” Fish smiled welcomingly, though it didn't seem to help put Kristen at ease just yet. “Please, come have a seat. I promise I don't bite.”

Kristen smiled shyly as she approached the table. “It’s very quiet in here, for this late.” She said, holding her handbag a little too tightly with nerves as she sat down. 

“I thought you might be a little more comfortable in a quieter environment,” Fish said, her perceptive eyes watching Kristen intently. “Was I wrong?”

“No,” Kristen said looking around the club. “I just … You’re losing a lot of business … Just to have dinner with me.” She said, and honestly Tom had been right. She clearly wanted something and at this point, Kristen was having a hard time figuring out just what that was. 

Fish chuckled slightly at that. “I have more sources of business revenue than just this club,” she said, spreading her hands in an open gesture, as if to indicate their surroundings, or perhaps all of Gotham. It was unclear. “And Wednesday night's are usually a little slow here anyway. I can more than afford to shut things down and take a night off every now and then … And I’d like to take some time to get to know you,” she added, fixing Kristen with that intent, long-lashed gaze of hers, before she turned over shoulder and said, “Oswald, would you be so kind as to get Miss. Kringle a drink menu?”

Oswald sighed quietly, out of Fish’s hearing range. “I’m not a waiter.” He mumbled before smiling at her. “Of course Miss. Mooney.” He said going behind the bar and grabbing a drink menu over, and handing it to Kristen. 

“Oh, uh … Thank you.” Kristen said, her cheeks tinting red before she looked up at her host. “If I may inquire, Miss Mooney. Why did you want to have dinner with me?” She asked a bit bluntly. 

“You're a very direct kind of woman, aren't you?” Fish said, smiling in amusement. “I wanted to sit down and talk with you for several reasons. It's my understanding you work in records, which makes you an ideal connection to have and, to be equally blunt, probably a good deal smarter than most of the cops I talk to. In addition, you’re seeing a cop I occasionally have business with, which makes you a person of interest automatically. And, all business aside, you seem like someone who could be enjoyable to have dinner with.”

Kristen flinched slightly, though she tried to hide it. “I …” She paused not really knowing what to say to that. “An ideal connection?” She asked, wondering what she was talking about. “I can’t give information on existing or future cases to anyone outside of the police or detectives involved in the case. I’m sorry, Miss. Mooney, but … I don’t think I’ll be of any use to you.” 

“Perhaps you can’t divulge information on ‘existing or future cases,’” Fish said, unperturbed, casually lifting her wine glass and taking a sip of her cabernet. “But you see things that go on, don’t you? Things that don’t necessarily fall under that category?”

“Well, yes. But it’s not any information you couldn’t get from anyone else.” Kristen said playing with her napkin. “What makes me so special?”

“You’ve seen at least a few of those case files you’ve stored, I’m sure,” Fish said, leaning forward slightly over the table. “Which cases are usually stronger, with a more complete picture of what really happened? Ones with just one witness, or multiple witnesses?”

“That’s really hard to say.” She said with a slight shrug, letting go of her red cloth napkin. “Either can be just as inaccurate. Multiple witnesses often provide various information which leads to confusion and no more accuracy than we would having only one, and only having one would lead to the question of if it’s actually accurate, or truthful. Most people aren’t as observant, or remember things differently than others, and while their information may be inaccurate, it’s accurate to them. For example if we both saw the same man three days ago, I could say he’s wearing a blue jacket, you may remember him wearing a green jacket. Neither one of us are lying, we just remember it differently.” She said before pausing. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.” She said, looking back down at her napkin, her cheeks tinging slightly. 

“No, you’re exactly right,” Fish said, delighted. She had expected an either-or answer, but Kristen had delved into the real complexity behind the question in a way that most people wouldn’t, and showing both knowledge and enthusiasm for investigative technique … The conversation had been brief so far, but Fish was already convinced that Kristen was wasted on filing. Though it was, admittedly, a relatively safe occupation. “People have different perspectives, their memories can retain different details, their motives change,” she said, gesturing with one graceful hand as she spoke. “Which is why I personally prefer to get my information from multiple sources when I can, then sift through the details and determine for myself what seems like the most trustworthy conclusion. Which brings us back to you.” Fish looked back at her intently with a steady, maintained eye contact. “Yes, most of what you see could come from other sources … But the majority of those sources are cops. They think like cops, process information like cops, decide which details are important like cops … It’s practically all the same source. You, however, are a new perspective.”

“So you want me to gather information for you?” She said nervously. “A different perspective from the other’s working there?”

“That’s the idea,” Fish said, settling back in her seat. “Though you seem less than comfortable with it.”

“I um …” She paused as Oswald brought her drink to her and she said a quiet ‘thank you’ before continuing. “I don’t … It’s just that … I don’t think Tom would like that very much.” 

Oh dear. Kristen was smart, certainly, but in some ways, she was still apparently quite innocent. Strangely, Fish found that endearing in her case. “Well,” Fish said, picking up her glass of wine and nonchalantly taking a sip. “He doesn’t exactly have a monopoly on information, does he?” She let the implication hang in the air.

“Well, no but … He’s … Rather pro-protective.” She said stuttering on that word. Perhaps it wasn’t exactly the right word, but it was the best she could give. “He wouldn’t want me getting mixed up in this.” 

Fish watched her intently, her expression not changing, though she didn’t fail to notice how Kristen suddenly stuttered when discussing dear Tom. “Good to know he’s concerned about you,” Fish said dryly, before pointedly asking, “But do you know what  _ you  _ want?”

“I …” She paused. No one's really ever asked her that before. As soon as she brought up Tom not liking something, the subject was generally dropped. “I … Don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

Fish looked back at her a moment appraisingly, then nodded. “Alright then,” she said, a little impressed that, even as timid as she was, Kristen still put her foot down and stood up to her. Though Oswald had reported that this side of her only seemed to come out when Officer Dougherty wasn’t around. “Let me suggest a compromise, then. In the future, when I have a specific question, I’ll ask you, and then you’ll decide if it’s something you’re comfortable answering. Does that seem reasonable?”

Kristen looked like she was going to argue for a moment before she stopped. No doubt if she said no, Fish would take other measures to get her compliance. “I can do that.” She said quietly. 

“I appreciate that,” Fish said smoothly, satisfied for the moment. She wasn’t wild about that defeated look on Kristen’s face, but business was business. “I’ll send for you when there’s something I need to ask … But tonight, why don’t you just tell me more about yourself?”

“About myself?” She asked as Oswald brought her over a food menu. He didn’t bother bringing Fish one, she already knew the entire menu off by heart. She’d made it after all. “What would you like to know?”

“The usual,” Fish said, her chin resting on one hand as she looked across the table at her. “What are your interests, other than filing police documents and dating Tom? Favorite colour? Any pets? Are you content working in records indefinitely, or do you see yourself somewhere else in a few years?”

“Oh, um, Well I’m not sure about interests. I enjoy reading but I don’t get a lot of time for it. I don’t have any pets, Tom doesn’t like the fur. I’m happy with my job, I have no intentions of leaving.” She said answering the questions she specifically asked. 

Fish smiled. That raised several interesting avenues of conversation, but Kristen was clearly nervous about saying much of anything. “Tell me more,” she said, taking the wine bottle of Kristen’s choice from a passing waiter and filling Kristen’s glass for her again. “What do you like to read when you have the time?” If she knew Kristen’s type, she suspected there was a stack of books somewhere she was neglecting for some day when she had the time, collecting dust in an ever towering waiting list. “If Tom didn’t mind, what sort of pet would you have? What do you like about your job?”

“I like to read anything really. Last I was reading I left off in the middle of A Tale Of Two Cities.” She said taking a sip of her wine. “I’ve always had a love of the classics. I’ve read it before but I wanted to read it again. I started before I met Tom. I had a cat before, his name was … Okay don’t laugh, his name was Princess Fluffy Monster, don’t ask …” She said smiling.  

“Princess Fluffy Monster?” Fish couldn’t help laughing slightly at that unexpected revelation. “I can’t help but think there must be a story behind that. So, what happened to Princess Fluffy Monster?” Of course, there were any number of possibilities. Animals had their natural lifespans, cats were often prone to wander, and Gotham’s dangers weren’t exclusive to human beings. But she couldn’t help wondering whether Dougherty was the type to make her give the cat away rather than put up with it. If that was the case, she could determine a good deal about their relationship from that one fact alone.

“Oh, well … Like I said, Tom doesn’t really like cats. And he didn’t like it when I came over with fur on my clothes so … He gave it to someone.” She said, though it didn’t sound like she really believed that. More likely he took it and threw it in an alley somewhere. 

Fish’s smile faded to a kind of deadpan, hardened expression, neutral on the surface, yet it wasn't hard to imagine a hint of anger behind it. “You must really like him,” she said coolly. “For a lot of girls, that would be a deal-breaker. Is he worth it?”

“Of course!” Kristen said almost too quickly. “I … I love him.” She said playing with her fork. 

“And he makes you happy?” Fish asked, watching her expression and body language closely, no detail escaping her. 

“Yes, of course.” She said, not looking up at her. 

“Good to hear that,” Fish said, noticing that Kristen’s wine glass was dwindling again rather quickly, and filling it up for her again. It might be the stress and tension of just meeting with her, but then, now that they had started talking about dear Tom, it might be something else. In any case, Fish saw no harm in helping her to loosen up a little, at least enough to get what she really thought and felt off her chest. “After all, if you’re not happy, what’s the point?”

“Yes …” She said hesitantly. “What would be the point?” 

“Personally, I’ve never seen why people settle for relationships that offer anything less,” Fish said casually, refilling her own glass and taking a sip. She resolved to take the point further later on in the evening, when Kristen felt a little more comfortable and they were both likely a couple more drinks in. “Everyone seems so determined to end up with somebody; they start out looking for Prince Charming, but end up taking whatever comes their way, because they would rather be miserable with someone else than take the time to figure out how to be happy on their own. Half the married men I talk to don't even know why they proposed, except that it seemed like the expected thing to do. And I can't tell you how many of my girls I’ve heard complaining away about boyfriends who don't respect them … yet the relationship just keeps going, and every night the girls come back to work with the exact same complaints, as if there's nothing in the world that can be done about it.” She shook her head. “So it's good to hear about a couple that actually makes each other happy for a change.”

“Yes, it is nice.” She said, her finger playing over the top of her wine glass. “Are you seeing anyone?” She asked, changing the subject. 

Fish chuckled slightly at that. “Not in the way you are, no,” she said, leaning back in her chair, watching Kristen across the table. She was cute when she was nervous, in a quaint sort of way, but Fish couldn’t help wanting to see what she was like when she was more confident. “At the moment, there are a few different people that I have fun with, but I’m not seeing anyone seriously.”

“Fun?” She asked. “I envy you … I would never have the guts to do anything like that. I enjoy the commitment.” She said even though she suspected on many occasions that Tom was seeing someone else. “I don’t think I’d be comfortable doing that with someone I wasn’t with.” 

“It's easier than you think,” Fish said with a small smile. It seemed like a funny thing for someone who was happy in their relationship to envy. “If you're ever feeling brave enough to try it, I could show you. Unless of course you like men exclusively?” It might be a little soon to throw the idea out there, even half-jokingly, but it was to tempting to see how she would react. 

Kristen felt a rise of panic coming over her. “I …” This is what Tom had warned her about. And she didn’t know how she felt about it. “I … I just like men.” Really ever since Tom had brought it up, she’d been thinking about it, and she wasn’t adverse to the idea, but Tom made it clear to her to make sure Fish knew she was straight, when she might not be. And he’d kill her if she did anything like that. Cheating on him, even with Fish Mooney of all people, wasn’t a good idea.

“Relax,” Fish said, her eyes clearly entertained as she smiled with surprising warmth, even if it was at Kristen’s expense. “You don’t have to give me that frightened little rabbit look. That was an invitation, not a command.” Though unless Fish had entirely misinterpreted the way Kristen occasionally looked at her since she came in, her reasoning had less to do with sexual orientation and more to do with Tom. In fact, Fish wasn’t even entirely sure that fear was directed primarily at her. With a raised finger and a pointed look, she added, “A standing invitation,” leaving no room for doubt. “If you ever feel differently.”

“I … I’ll keep that in mind. But really, I am happy with Tom.” She said, clearly lying through her teeth. “But thank you.” 

“That’s good to hear,” Fish said, a knowing look in her eyes. “Why don’t you tell me a little more about that, hmm? How is life with dear Tom?”

“Why are you so curious about Tom?” She asked. “I don’t really feel comfortable talking about my relationship with someone I just met.” 

“He makes you happy, doesn’t he?” Fish said innocently. “I thought you might enjoy talking about him. You’re certainly not required to, though.” She took some degree of satisfaction, both from seeing Kristen stand up to her, and from having her assessment of the situation confirmed. But there was nothing to be gained by pressing the point now. If Kristen was that uncomfortable talking about it, she would likely just become defensive. “Have you decided yet what you would like to order?” she asked, accommodating the change in subject. “I strongly recommend the pasta.”

Kristen nodded. “The pasta it is then.” She said, closing the menu and pushing it to the side. 

Fish ordered her usual, and a waiter took up Kristen’s menu, before disappearing behind a door into the kitchen. “So,” Fish said, resting her chin on her hand again as she looked across the table at Kristen. “Tell me about  _ A Tale of Two Cities.  _ I’ll admit, the only Dickens novel I’ve really gotten into was  _ Great Expectations. _ ”

“Oh, I don’t think that would interest you much.” Kristen said waving it off. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?” Kristen asked, though to be honest she wasn’t sure if Fish would even tell her the truth. It was very possible she would make something up. Fish didn’t seem like the type to trust others with personal information about herself, no matter how minor the detail. 

Fish’s head tilted slightly, smiling slightly as she looked back at her. Given how much Kristen apparently liked that book, it was surprising that she chose to ask about her instead. “Alright,” she said with a nod. “Ask me anything you would like to know.”

Kristen licked her lips as she looked up at her. “Oh,” She paused thinking about it a moment. What would be appropriate to ask. “I’m not sure what to ask. Anything really. Do you have any pets?”

“Not in a while,” Fish said with a small smile of reminiscence. “I did have a cat once. A scrappy little thing called Sidney. Terrible temper; he couldn’t tolerate anyone but me.”

Kristen laughed slightly. “Sounds like a typical cat to me.” She said. “I find they generally pick one person they like, and hate everyone else.” 

“I don’t think he was too terribly sure about me either,” Fish said, leaning forward slightly, feeling a connection of shared understanding. “But it can be nice to have a pet who’s selective about the company he keeps. It makes you feel like you’ve been awarded some exclusive privilege.”

“Yes, it makes you feel rather special, doesn’t it?” She asked with a soft smile, looking down at the table shyly. “I imagine it’s a fraction of what being a mother would feel like.” 

“That’s outside my realm of experience,” Fish said, chuckling slightly. “But I suppose so. You sound like you see that in your future?” It was hardly a priority for Fish; the way she did business, the fewer liabilities she had in her life, the safer things were. Of course, there were people involved in this world who managed to make it work, but it complicated things to say the least. However, she hadn’t failed to notice that touch of sentimental longing in Kristen’s eyes just now.

“I think I’d like to have kids one day … But, it doesn’t seem to be in the cards.” She said with a slight shrug as a waiter brought over their food. Kristen smiled and thanked him before he headed over to the side of the room to wait. “I haven’t really found anyone who wants them.”

“I see,” Fish said, picking up her fork. “It is a big decision. But I’m sure two people in a committed relationship could at least talk about it, right?” Granted, perhaps not if one of those people was Tom. But Kristen really seemed to be opening up now.

“I suppose.” She said with a slight shrug. “Though it’s hard to talk about it with someone who doesn’t want kids. The conversation tends to stop rather quickly. It’s not like I can talk him into having a baby when he doesn’t want one. I feel like that would be a bad idea. It’s a huge commitment, and I find men don’t want children. Everyone I know who has children, they’ve been accidents.” She said, taking a bite of her pasta. 

“There are a lot of those going around,” Fish agreed, taking a sip of her wine. “But if it’s that important to you, it should still at least be open for discussion.”

“I don’t see it really being necessary to talk about. It may be important to me but if my partner doesn’t want a child, it wouldn’t be fair of me to press the subject.” She said. “I haven’t really talked to Tom about it much, but I don’t think he’d …” She stopped, shifting in her seat uncomfortable. “Sorry, I’m going off again. I tend to ramble a lot.” 

“I kind of like the rambling,” Fish said with a small smile. “It lets me know what you really think. That’s not a bad thing.”

“Perhaps not.” Kristen said, taking another bite of her food. “But perhaps it is.” 

“Oh?” Fish asked, watching her intently with a look that gave away nothing. “And why might that be?”

“I don’t know you, but I know your reputation. I may say something I shouldn’t …” She said, picking at her food. “Something that may land myself, or someone else in trouble.” 

“I don’t know you either,” Fish said, one elegant finger tracing around the rim of her wine glass. “But you seem to have a good head on your shoulders. I doubt you would be that careless.”

_ ‘Why are you so careless?!’ _ Tom’s voice echoed in her ears for a moment and it startled her enough that she knocked her wine glass over, the red wine spilling out over the white table cloth. “Oh my God, I am so sorry!” She said picking up the glass and righting it, a little bit of the red liquid still in the bottom of the glass. “I’m so clumsy sometimes! Oh, your table cloth! I’m sorry!” She said wishing she had something to clean it up with. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Fish said, taking a cloth napkin and blotting at the spill, while gesturing swiftly to Oswald, who came over and quickly cleaned up the mess. “It’s a tablecloth at a nightclub … It happens. You didn’t get any on that blouse of yours, did you?” she asked, looking over her. Truth be told, Fish wouldn’t mind helping to clean that up either … But it seemed to have just been a small spill.

“Still,” Kristen said, her cheeks red with embarrassment. “I can’t believe I did that. I’m so clumsy sometimes. Tom says …” She stopped again and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, I’m still very sorry.” 

“Everyone can be clumsy at times,” Fish said, her hand brushing lightly against Kristen’s as she finished daubing at the table cloth. “It just means you’re human. Now, what was it Tom says? That you’re cute when you’re nervous, perhaps?” she asked with a small, playful smirk. She doubted it was that. But it should be. Fish had half a mind to see her even more flustered, if Kristen would just let her. From what she’d gathered, Tom really didn’t seem to understand what he had.

“N-” Kristen was about to argue, but she really didn’t want to go into it further. “You think I’m cute when I’m nervous?” She asked, leading the conversation away from Tom while keeping it on topic. 

“Yes, I do,” Fish said self-assuredly, her hand still lingering by Kristen's. “Though admittedly, I’ve only seen you when you're at least a little nervous. I suspect you're cute all the time.”

Kristen smiled shyly at that. “It’s hard not to be a little nervous in your presence. I mean no offence by that at all, but … Your reputation is a bit …” She paused, trying to think of the proper word. “Intimidating, to say the least.” She said that last part as almost a question. 

“Nice word choice,” Fish said with a small smile of amusement. “And I don’t take offence. That reputation is hard-earned.”

“I imagine so.” Kristen said, taking another few bites of her pasta, the both of them sitting in a rather comfortable silence for a few moments. “This pasta is really good. I thank you for the recommendation. I never realized the food here was so good, I would have come here sooner.” She said, though perhaps not … The scenery wasn’t exactly her style on nights when it was open, but … Now that she knew Fish, to some extent, and had tasted the food, she wouldn’t be adverse to coming back. 

“Does that mean I’ll be seeing you here often?” Fish said, resting her chin on one hand as she looked intently back at her across the table. “Who knows, you might even like the place when it’s open.”

Kristen laughed slightly. “Well, I suppose that would depend on present company, and if I’m in any danger here. I’m not too fond of the area. Also, Tom and I get so little time together around work, he doesn’t really like sharing.” 

“Oh, you would be more than safe here,” Fish said, waving a hand dismissively. “People know better to start things in my club. Of course if you’re busy, I understand … But would you feel like returning?”

“I wouldn’t mind it. But, it’s not inside the club I’m worried about. It’s the return home after dark.” She said, finishing off her pasta and Oswald came over to collect her plate, taking it into the kitchen without being prompted. 

Fish actually laughed at that. “You think I’m letting you walk home from here, alone, at night? No, I know my territory a little better than that. No, you’ll be getting a ride.” Fish slid a dessert menu to her across the table. “I’d make a dessert recommendation, but you really can’t go wrong with anything on there.”

“Thank you.” Kristen said, looking at the tiny dessert menu. She licked her lips before she lowered her menu. “You’ve been so kind this evening, and forgive me if this is rude but … I can’t help but wonder why.” 

“You’re straightforward and to the point,” Fish said, with a look of approval in her eyes, as if Kristen’s very question proved it. “Simply put,” she said, folding her hands on the table. “You’re refreshing to be around. I’ve decided I like you.”

“You’ve decided.” Kristen said, her eyebrows raising with slight disbelief. “Well, I suppose I should be flattered then. May I ask why?” 

“You say what you mean, even when you’re nervous,” her head tilting slightly. Surprise and confusion was a rather endearing look for Kristen. The girl didn’t seem to give herself much credit, though. “You’re also smart, and as I mentioned earlier, it doesn’t hurt that you’re cute either.”

Kristen smiled slightly at that, looking down at the table. “I wouldn’t say I’m smart, but thank you.” She said, her cheeks tinting red again. 

“I would,” Fish said unequivocally, admiring the profile of Kristen's face as she looked away modestly, blushing so prettily that Fish had to wonder just how much redder she could make Kristen's face get. Finding out certainly promised to be a fun experiment. “You're smart enough to question my motives at every turn,” she pointed out. “Which … you would honestly be surprised how many people don't possess that much sense. You're smart enough not to make me any promises you can't keep. Plenty of people think it will keep them out of trouble if they just go along with whatever I say and then try to back out later. It doesn't work out in the long run.” She tilted her head as she watched Kristen’s lovely face, managing to meet her eyes despite Kristen's downturned gaze. “And you’re obviously book smart, even if lately you don't have the kind of leisure time to read that you would like.”

“You’re very kind.” Kristen said as their dessert was brought out. “I’ll be honest, I’m a bit surprised.” 

Fish smiled slightly at that, a little gratified. “Because of my reputation, I presume?” she asked mildly. It didn't seem to bother her in the slightest. If anything, she seemed pleased by it. 

“Yes.” She said. “I imagined you’d be much more …” She paused trying to think of an appropriate word. “Intimidating.” 

“I’m as intimidating as I have to be when it suits me,” Fish said, unperturbed, casually picking up a fork and using it to delicately slice off a morsel of the rich chocolate soufflé. “And I’m also as kind as I want to be when it suits me. I don't get caught up in trying to be entirely one or the other to please anyone else.”

“So, you just act yourself on a case by case basis?” She asked. “It’s so strange to think that there’s people that can do that. Just, act how you want based on who you’re around and not worry about people judging you for being ‘fake’.” She said, picking at the piece of cheesecake in front of her. 

“I act in the way that suits me best at the time,” Fish said with a small smile, gesturing for emphasis as she talked. “It does help, though, if you're not overly concerned with what people think.”

“I suppose that would help.” She said. There was silence a few moments before Kristen spoke again. “So … What do you like doing for fun?” She asked awkwardly. 

“You mean when I’m not working on diabolical schemes?” Fish said, mildly amused. “I like music, dancing, talking to someone who can make me laugh, I do a little fashion design as a hobby,” she said, gesturing off-handedly at the little blue dress she was wearing. “You?” She leaned forward slightly over the table. “I know you like reading, classics in particular. What else?”

Kristen noticed how Fish kept pushing the conversation back onto her. “You don’t really like talking about yourself, do you?” Kristen asked. 

“I already know about myself,” Fish said, though there was a flicker of interest in her eyes at how perceptive Kristen was. “It’s you I want to learn more about. Besides,” she added with a shrug. “If I talk too much about myself, I won’t come off as fascinatingly mysterious, now will I?”

“I’m not really a fan of mysterious, to be honest.” Kristen said, taking another small bite of her cheesecake. “I find it tends to lead to bad things.” 

“You mean when the mystery wears off and you find it was all just covering up a truly awful or dull personality?” she asked, settling back in her chair. Between Dougherty and Flass, Fish got the impression that Kristen’s dating history had been largely disappointing. “Not the case here, I promise.”

“More often than not, awful.” Kristen said. “My relationship with Flass and To- …. Well, with Flass, wasn’t exactly the best. It started out nice but … He just turned into an ass hole.” 

“Somehow, I think Flass was always an asshole,” she said, sitting back in her chair. “And just got comfortable enough to think he could get away with showing it. When that happens, it’s usually time to show a man the door.”

“Yeah, unfortunately I have a hard time with that. Is it bad that … When he was arrested, I was happy?” She asked, her hand moving questioningly. “I wanted to end it for a few weeks but … I was too scared to. When he was arrested it just … It gave me an easy out.” She paused, staring down at her drink, her finger playing over the base. “Does that make me weak?” Of all the people she knew, she weirdly trusted Fish to tell her the truth on this matter. She had no reason so sugar coat anything. Especially where relationships were concerned. 

Fish tilted her head slightly, as if considering the matter, and then shook it. “No,” she said decisively. “It doesn’t make you weak. It just means you hadn’t found your strength yet.”

“That’s a polite way of saying ‘weak’.” Kristen said. “But I appreciate your optimism.” 

“Oh, no, it’s there, even if you haven’t found it yet,” Fish said seriously. “If I didn’t think so, I would say it. You’ve held your own talking to me, after all.” She smiled slightly. “You just need a little confidence in yourself.”

“Well, that’s quite a bit easier said than done.” Kristen said finishing off her cheesecake. “Dinner was really good. Thank you for inviting me.” She said, pressing her napkin to her lips in case there was anything on them, a bit of her bright lipstick going onto the white cloth. 

“I’m glad I did,” Fish said, her eyes lingering on that lipstick imprint, thinking of a few other places she wouldn’t mind Kristen leaving traces of her lipstick. But not tonight. Kristen had made that clear. Fish didn’t mind, though.Getting to know her slowly had its charms so far. “The evening was worth repeating, I hope?”

“It was …” Kristen said nervously. “But I don’t think that would be a good idea. Tom’s the jealous type, and he knows you’re interested in women so … He’s just … protective.” 

“Or possessive,” Fish said with a small understanding smile. Perhaps, if she were impatient, she would have considered Kristen's answer a defeat. But Fish could wait. She could tell that she intrigued Kristen as much as Kristen intrigued her. When the time was right, things would work out. “It's good to know that he cares, though. I suppose you’ll be wanting that ride home about now? It's my understanding that ten o’clock on a weeknight is rather late for people who don't run a nightclub.”

“Is it ten already?!” Kristen asked, pulling out her phone and glancing at the time. “Oh I have to work early tomorrow. I really should be going, I am so sorry.” 

“Don't worry,” Fish reassured her pleasantly, a little gratified that Kristen had lost track of time talking with her, rather than nervously counting the minutes. It certainly wasn't a bad sign. “I understand completely. Let's get you home, shall we?” The waiter approached with a small to-go box, which Fish took and handed to her, her hand lingering lightly over hers as she did. “I thought I would send another slice of that cheesecake home with you to enjoy later.” It wasn't a terribly forward gesture as impromptu gifts went, but was nonetheless something she knew Kristen would enjoy, and it ensured that she would think of Fish again later.

“Thank you.” Kristen said, her cheeks turning that delicious shade of pink again. “That’s very kind of you.”

“It’s nothing,” Fish said with a charming smile. “But you’re welcome … And if you change your mind about repeating this, you’ll be welcome back then too.”

Kristen smiled again. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” She said and Fish snapped her fingers over in the direction of the bar. 

“Oswald, will you please drive Miss. Kringle home?” She asked and Oswald moved over to them. 

“Of course, Miss. Mooney.” He said nervously, almost jittery. 

“Oh, and in case you change your mind about having dinner again, or you ever need anything at all,” Fish produced a business card with her phone number on it and slipped it neatly into Kristen’s purse. “Just give me a call.”

Kristen didn’t know how she felt about that, but she nodded. It didn’t hurt to take the card. “I will. Thank you.” She said though she didn’t think she actually would. 

Seeing the uncertainty in Kristen’s eyes, Fish looked back at her steadily, something commanding in the way she stood, in the tilt of her head, and most of all in her eyes. “Don’t throw it away,” she said smoothly. “There comes a time when everyone needs a friend.” Then her expression softened into a small, pleasant smile, and she said, handing a pair of car keys to Oswald.  “It was lovely meeting you, Kristen. I hope to see you again.”

“Likewise.” She said before she followed Oswald out to a car. He clicked the button on the keys, aiming it around the parking lot behind Fish’s club. “You don’t know which car is yours?” Kristen asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“The car belongs to Miss. Mooney,” Oswald explained nervously, before one of the cars beeped helpfully, its lights blinking in response to the keys. “Ah, it’s this one over here.” He hurried awkwardly over to the car in his black suit, going to the passenger door and holding it open for her.

Kristen held her purse nervously as she came to the car. “You’re a very strange man.” She said getting into the car. No one had ever held a car door open for her, even if it was an employee of Fish Mooney’s, it was strange. 

“I get that a lot,” Oswald said with a pinched little smile before he closed the door for her and made his way to the driver’s side, letting himself in, closing the door, and buckling in before he started the ignition. “I’m afraid I'll need directions,” he said. 

“Right, it’s um … You can drop me off at the corner of 7th and Watt.” She said, pointing in the direction. “I can walk from there.” 

Oswald started driving in the direction she had indicated, but he glanced over at her nervously with an amiable smile. “You’ll forgive me, but Miss. Mooney specifically requested that I drive you all the way to your apartment. You know Gotham streets at night. It would just set her mind at ease.”

“Or you just want to know where I live.” Kristen said. “And, I mean no offence, but you kind of creep me out.” She said looking out the car window. 

“I get that a lot too,” Oswald said, looking away at the road ahead, though his smile faltered a little for a moment. “Though you must realize that if I or Miss. Mooney wanted to know where you live, that information would be very easy to find.”

Kristen’s head turned to look at him. “Are you threatening me?” She asked, a little offended that this little creep would even say that. Sure it wouldn’t be hard to find her, but it was extremely inappropriate to bring that up to someone. “Or trying to scare me?”

“No, I … of course not,” he stammered out quickly, shaking his head, his vivid green eyes wide, looking rather timid, almost as if he were the one who felt threatened somehow. “I only meant that there's no point in worrying about letting me drive you home.”

“By telling me that you can find my address without my knowledge? What else can you find out, I wonder?” She asked. “My phone number? Date of birth? Past homes? Past jobs? My credit card number? Social security number? Where is that line drawn?” She asked staring at him. “How much of that have you already found out? I know you found out my name and where I work. What else?” 

“That’s all,” Oswald insisted. “You make it sound as if I have any personal interest in learning anything about you whatsoever.”

Kristen looked as if she were about to retort when she paused and shook her head, staring out the passenger's side window, watching the buildings going by. “How do I know you don’t?”

Oswald looked confused by that question. “Why would I?” he asked. “No offense, but not everyone finds you as fascinating as Miss. Mooney does.”

Kristen rolled her eyes and shook her head as she looked away from him again. “Just let me off at 7th and Watt …” She said flatly. 

“Miss. Kringle,” Oswald sighed, looking openly exasperated. “Miss. Mooney gave me very specific instructions. If I drop you off at 7th and Watt instead of seeing you safely to your door, I doubt you would go running off to tell her. But if I drop you off early, and you manage to get into some kind of trouble between 7th and Watt and your apartment, I don’t think you realize how much trouble I would be in.”

“Alternatively, if you don’t drop me off at 7th and Watt, I’ll inform Miss. Mooney that you let me off in the Narrows because you had another errand to run.” She said, looking back at him, completely serious about her threat. Or at least, sounding serious, she would never lie to her. 

“Or, I could turn this car around and go straight back to Miss. Mooney because you are completely impossible,” Oswald said, his head leaning back against the headrest behind him, looking annoyed to the point of exhaustion. “Will you please just let me do my job? You’re not the only one who just wants to call it a night and go home.”

“Something tells me that your shift doesn’t end at 10:30 at night. Unless Miss. Mooney is planning on staying closed all night. Doesn’t her business run right to 2 AM?” She asked, looking over at him. “You’re welcome to turn the car around, if you want to face Fish and admit to your inability to do a simple drop off.” 

“She’ll know either way,” Oswald said irritably, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “She just finds things out, it’s what she does. And no, my shift would ordinarily not end until well after closing, but I wasn’t supposed to be working tonight at all. My mother is sick, and I need to …” He shook his head, cutting his own rant short, but his eyes still looked anxious. “Listen, Miss. Kringle, I admire your persistence and I absolutely understand your caution, but I just want to do my job. I really, truly do not care in the slightest where you live.”

Kristen was silent a few more moments as they approached Grundy St. “Fine … Turn left on Grundy … Then go all the way down to Woodward Ave and take another right. I’m pretty much right on the corner of West 7th.” She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Oswald nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thank you,” he said, before turning the car left, following her directions, before the car pulled up to a neatly average little apartment complex at the corner where she had indicated. “Is this the place?” he asked.

“Just up a bit further. 232 W 7th St.” She said and Oswald pulled up half way down the block. 

“Here?” He asked. 

“Yes.” She said, not bothering to say thank you as she got out of the car and paused when she saw a black vehicle on the other side of the road. Tom was here … Just when she thought she’d be able to go home and get a good night’s sleep. 


	5. Chapter 5

As Oswald pulled away, he saw that obnoxious Officer Dougherty leaning in the doorway, scowling down at Kristen. Doubtless, he would have questions about what had been discussed tonight. But the hour was fairly early for Miss. Mooney, so reasonably nothing could have happened. Of course, she would have been home earlier if she hadn’t been so difficult about it. But that was between the two of them to work out.

“So,” Tom said, his arms crossed as he looked down at his girl, if she was even still his, his eyes accusing. His speech was just a little slurred, and the scent of alcohol weighed heavily on his breath. “What did Fish want?”

“We just had dinner.” She said moving past him and to the door to the apartment building. She pulled it open and used her key to get in the front. She had half a mind to close it on him so he couldn’t get in, but then she remembered he’d demanded a key from her, and she’d been stupid enough to get it for him. But then again … That’s what good girlfriends did right? They gave their boyfriend a key to their apartment … It was romantic in a way. A show of trust. 

“Yeah?” Tom said, following her in, close behind her the whole way, the anger rolling off of him in almost tangible waves. He waited until they were inside, the door closed behind them, before he rounded on her. “Dinner and what else?”

“That was it. We had dinner. She asked me what I did at the GCPD, so I told her. She asked me if I could get her information, and I informed her that I had nothing she couldn’t get from anyone else. We had polite conversation over our hobbies and interests, and then Oswald drove me home.” She said putting her keys down on the counter, refusing to look up at him. Not because she was lying but because his behaviour was making her nervous. 

“Do you think I’m stupid!?” Tom shouted, grabbing her roughly by the wrist and pulling her to him, his other hand reaching behind to grab her ponytail, pulling it sharply backward, forcing her to look up. “You look me in the eye when you say that! You expect me to believe that Fish Mooney was interested in your dumb hobbies? What happened?”

“I told you what happened!” She said, staring up at him. “If you don’t believe me, you can ask her! She’ll confirm everything I’ve said. Let me go, you’re hurting me, Tom.” 

“Ask her?” Tom repeated, shaking her. “Why, so I can hear the same story you two rehearsed together? Fish is a lying whore and she always has been! You think I didn’t see the way she looked at you? What did she really want? How far did you let her go, hmm?”

“A … So is that what you see me as too?” she asked. “A lying whore? Because that’s what I feel you’re treating me as!” she said. “I told you the truth, I wouldn’t lie to you. I don’t know what her game was, but we had a comfortable chat, had dinner, had dessert, and Oswald drove me home. There wasn’t anything else!” 

His grip on her arm still tight enough to bruise, Tom let go of her hair only to backhand her hard across the face. “Don’t give me that kind of attitude!” he snapped. “How many times have I told you that!” He shoved her back against the wall hard, knocking some books off of an end table as she bumped into the edge. “Why did it take you so long to have just dinner and a chat, then?” he demanded, face inches from hers as he pinned her to the wall. “It’s almost eleven! What could possibly have taken you so long?”

“Tom, you’re scaring me. I already told you, nothing happened. We just talked,” she said. “I told her how much I love you because you actually care about me! I told her about how Flass treated me and how much better you are! I made it very clear I’m with you! I don’t know what you want from me Tom!” she said, shrinking away from him. 

“I want,” Tom sneered, only tightening his grip on her more the more she tried to shrink away. “For you to be either with me or at home where you belong, not out at all hours with some whore bitch like Fish Mooney! And you’re damn right you’re better off with me than that deadbeat, Flass. You think he’d be even half as understanding about this? No! But I’m waiting around here, worrying about you, and you come in here getting all defensive, like I’m wrong for even asking, and what am I supposed to think?”

“You told me to go to dinner with her! What was I supposed to do? Say no?! You said that wasn’t an option. I was just doing what you told me to.” She said holding her hand to her face.

“Of course it wasn’t an option!” Tom snapped. “Fish is manipulative like that, I already told you. But I never said to stay out until almost eleven and then come in here talking back to me! I swear, you can be so stupid sometimes!”

Kristen flinched, tears pooling in her eyes. “If I’m so stupid, then why are you with me?” 

“What, so you think you can get me to leave, so you can go run off and be with her?” he demanded, his grip on her wrist tightening even further, and he grabbed the other one, pinning both against the wall. “You think she’d even be this concerned about where you’ve been? Think she’d even give you the time of day? She’s got dozens of guys and dozens of sluts waiting at her beck and call, do you think she’d even notice you for more than a second? I’m just looking out for you, do you think anyone else in this town would bother to do that?”

“Tom, stop!” She said, tears now running down her cheeks as she struggled against his hands. She knew it was just the alcohol. He wouldn’t be like this any other time. “I didn’t do anything! I did exactly what you told me to do. I told her I was with you! I told her I had no interest in women! What else should I have done! You know I love you!”

“Yeah?” he said, his body pressing up against hers, crushing her back against the wall, his breath still pungent with liquor. “Why don’t you show me then? Quit your whining and crying and show me you’re still mine.”

“If I do …” She said looking up at him. “Will you try to be a bit nicer?” she asked softly. 

“Why?” Tom said, keeping her pinned there, not letting her move. “I thought you liked it when I was a little rough.”

“Tom, please. Not tonight … Not like that. Can you just … Be gentle with me?” she asked, though she doubted he’d say yes. 

Tom looked down at her, a look of annoyance and disgust on his face. As desperate as she was for him to stop being mad, he’d thought she would be equally desperate to prove he was still the one she wanted, that she’d be a little more eager to please. But something in the pleading way she looked at him unsettled him, for reasons he couldn’t really understand. “Forget it,” he said, shoving her to the side harder than he had meant to, and she hit the side table hard as she fell, knocking it over with a loud crash as both Kristen and the table hit the floor. He winced, turning away, but she looked like she was fine, and this was all her fault anyway. He turned towards the door to leave, and Kristen slowly pushed herself to sit back up. 

“Wait …” She said quietly. “Please don’t leave mad … I’m sorry. I want to make you happy, I just …” 

“You just what?” he said, rounding on her, only to find her there on the floor, humbled and apologetic and eager to please, just like he’d wanted. His expression softened a little. Maybe he’d been a little hard on her … but that mouth of hers just brought it out in him sometimes.

“I’m sorry.” She said again. “Please come back.” She said, pathetically holding her hand out to him. 

Now, how could he say no to that, when she was literally begging him to stay? He approached her slowly, taking her offered hand in his more gently than he had before, ignoring the bruises already forming on her wrist. This one just needed a firm hand sometimes, and anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to leave her with a reminder, so that she didn’t forget too quickly once she’d learned her lesson. He helped her up, but only as far as her knees, his other hand running softly over her hair, still a little mussed from when he’d pulled it roughly just moments before. “You know I’m just looking out for you, right?” he said, his voice softer than before, the concern coming through. “I just get worried about you spending time with dangerous people like that.”

Kristen looked up at him and nodded, his hand still in hers, the fingers of his other hand in her hair feeling good despite what had happened. She brought his hand to her head, both of her hands moving up to his belt, the metal jingling as she tugged it open, and pulled the button loose. 

Kristen’s eyes drifted up to his as he watched her intently, his hands on her head. Her fingers slowly pulled down his zipper, and she actually felt a bit guilty that she was upset that he was even here. She just wanted to go to bed … But he was here, and she wanted to make him happy. Which meant she’d likely go to work tired tomorrow, but … That was fine. 

She parted his jeans, his belt jingling again as her hand ran up the bulge in his underwear and she looked up to see the lust in his eyes. She loved it when he looked at her like that … It made her feel wanted. 

“Tom, do you love me?” She asked before leaning forward and kissing his clothed erection. 

“Of course I do.” He said. “How could you question it?” He asked, his hand running over her hair. 

“I just like hearing it …” She said, her hands going up to his hips and pulling his pants and underwear down, his cock springing back up. She looked up at him expectantly but he said nothing. She refrained from shaking her head, he couldn’t even give her that. She pulled the foreskin back, stroking him a few times before taking it into her mouth. She shivered when she heard him moan and took him in farther. He wasn’t large by any means, he was smaller than Flass, so she could take him entirely into her mouth. She just hoped he was in a mood to cum on her breasts again, instead of in her mouth. She hated the taste of cum, and when he did cum in her mouth, he never warned her, it always took her by surprise. 

She closed her eyes and moaned around him as she took him in right down to the base and she felt his fingers tighten their hold on her head. Her hands went to his hips, hoping that with the alcohol in his system, he wouldn’t get too rough. But she knew that would likely happen. 

She kept her eyes closed as she bobbed her head on him over and over again, the taste of precome on her tongue. She could feel his hips moving slightly, feel his pubes tickling her nose with each thrust, and within a few more seconds he was moving on his own, holding her head in place. She stilled herself, relaxing her throat so that he wouldn’t choke her, not that he made it very far in, but he was still long enough that if she resisted it would be unpleasant. Her hands fell away from his hips as he started fucking her mouth, his balls slapping against her chin and despite his rough treatment of her, she felt herself growing wet at the sounds of his grunts and moans. 

“Ung, Kristen …” She loved it when he moaned her name. At least he wasn’t thinking about someone else. She did her best to keep up with him, but he was moving too quickly. She wanted so badly to reach between her legs and touch herself, but she knew she would never finish before he did, and he would leave soon after. Something like this … It was about him. So long as he got his pleasure, she was satisfied. Though that didn’t mean she didn’t have needs. But, those needs could be met by her own hand after he’d left. 

His breathing was heavy, his groans becoming more frequent, his hands clutching at her head tighter, and she knew it would likely cause her some discomfort in the morning, but that was okay. 

She worked her tongue over him, licking over the underside of his cock as it slid across her tongue over and over again before he thrust into her mouth as deep as he could, holding himself there as he came with a loud groan, his cum shooting into her throat and making her gag around him. She couldn’t help it … It always happened. She felt it shoot out in strands, gagging her with each pulse before he calmed and slowly started to pull his cock out, the last few shots hitting her tongue. 

She knew he was watching her as she did and she shivered at the taste of it. She wanted so badly to spit it out, but she knew he would take it as an offence. It was something he gave her … She shouldn’t reject it. She’d heard it before. 

“Come on,” Tom said. “Swallow it babe.” He said and she nodded, forcing herself not to cringe as she swallowed the sticky white substance. “There’s a good girl.” He said, his fingers playing over her jaw line. “I love you.” 

And there it was … That reward. The thing she loved hearing him say. That he loved her. And in that moment, how he was looking down at her like that, looking happy and pleased with her, she believed it. He took a step back as he tucked his cock back into his underwear and did his pants back up. “I’m going to walk home, I have to work early tomorrow.” He said, despite the fact that he started three hours after she did. 

Kristen nodded as she stood up. She knew he would leave. But at least that now meant she could retire to her room and maybe get herself off before she went to sleep. “Okay …” She said quietly. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow. I love you.” She said and she walked him to the door. He didn’t so much as say good bye before he walked out the door and down the hall to leave. 


	6. Chapter 6

Kristen sighed as she closed the door, leaning against it a moment with her eyes closed before she went and made herself some Sleepytime tea. The rest of the night she could just relax, drink her tea, and go to sleep. 

She put the kettle on as she went to go put on a pair of pajama pants and a spaghetti strap shirt. Once her tea was made, she put a few ice cubes in it, the ice quickly dissolving in the recently boiled water, cooling it enough for her to drink. She took it to her room, sipping at it as she climbed into her bed, sitting cross legged. 

She felt entirely content now that Tom was happy and had gone home. She felt almost accomplished in a way. She drank half of the tea and shifted. Still … She wish she had had an opportunity to get off. She never dared ask him to get her off, he expected her to do so when he was fucking her. It would be an insult to him if she ever did without him. Still, what Tom didn’t know didn’t hurt him. 

She finished off her tea, leaving the cup on the side dresser to deal with in the morning and she flicked her light off, moonlight bathing into her room. She laid quietly in bed, her hand rubbing up and down her stomach, the material of her shirt moving up before her hand slowly delved down into her pajama pants. Her fingers were cold from the room, despite the tea she had been holding and it made her slick heat feel so much warmer than she sure it actually was. She closed her eyes as she spread her legs, her fingers moving over herself before three fingers pressed inside. 

She closed her eyes, her head turning to the side as she started moving her fingers inside of herself, thinking of Tom over her as she did. But not the Tom that had left … No in her imagination, Tom was over her, she was so wet for him, and he moved gently, kindly, preparing her in ways she’d never experienced him do before. 

She shivered as she pictured his tongue on her, working over her as she rubbed her clit. Once again, it was something Tom had never done before, but god did she want him to. He was just so handsome, and just having him between her legs … 

“I like music, dancing, talking to someone who can make me laugh …” Kristen’s hands froze, and she opened her eyes staring up at the ceiling. Had she really thought about that … Now? She shook her head. She didn’t know why that came to her just then … Fish’s voice filtering into her mind. “I do a little fashion design as a hobby.” And she could picture Fish in a nice little red slip of her own design, black lace around the edges as she crawled up the bed, with that predator like danger in her eyes- No … 

She closed her eyes, forcing her mind back to Tom as she continued working her fingers into herself. She’d barely met Miss. Mooney … She’d just had dinner. She was with Tom. She loved Tom, but … God that didn’t mean her imagination couldn’t run away from her.    
  
She pictured Fish crawling over her, a bulge under her slip and Kristen stared at it curiously before her hand reached out. It was firm and hard, and Fish raised the slip to reveal a large black strapon. Kristen shivered and pulled her fingers from her, it wasn’t sufficing. She opened the bottom drawer of her side dresser and pulled out a decently sized dildo and shoved her pants down to her ankles, kicking them off on one leg. She shook slightly as she pictured Fish running her well manicured hands over that long hard strapon. She moaned loudly as she pressed the toy into her, picturing Fish thrusting into her for the first time. Her moans got louder as she started fucking herself faster, picturing Fish picking up the pace. One of her hands went to her breasts and despite the angle she imagined it was hers, her nails playing over her nipples. 

“Oh god …” Kristen said, bucking her hips up against the toy, her pleasure building as her imagination ran wild. This was so wrong, but there was just something about Fish that compelled her, that just demanded her attention and within seconds she cried out, coming hard on the toy inside of her, her fingers holding it in as deep as it would go, her inner walls clenching around the unforgiving material but god it felt so good. 

And yet … Now that it was over … It felt so wrong. 


	7. Chapter 7

Kristen sat at her desk in the records annex, staring down at the stacks of files that Nygma had left on the floor, her fingers running over her temples from her headache. Why? What had she ever done to him! Honestly. She didn’t even know where to start. She had specifically told him not to touch them, and he’d gone behind her back and had done just that. 

Though she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. All men were the same, even if he was very strange … They don’t listen. And they do what they want! And she was the one that had to suffer because of it. 

She threw her pencil angrily onto her desk with a groan, running her hands over her neatly pulled back hair. 

“Hey,” Lee said, walking in, her eyes quickly taking in the chaotic file stacks and Kristen’s evident stress. “Not a great morning, I take it?”

“Nygma.” She said, as if that were explanation enough. She looked up at her as Lee climbed over the stacks of files. 

Lee shook her head. “I don’t think he means to leave this kind of chaos in his wake,” she said. “But his mind is always definitely elsewhere.”

“That’s a very kind way of saying weird.” She said shaking her head. “The guy is a walking disaster! Honestly. I don’t understand why he hates me so much, like he goes out of his way to make my job harder. And he won’t leave me alone! He’s always finding some excuse to be in here!” 

“I don’t think he hates you at all,” Lee said. “Like I said, I don’t think he ever realizes how much of a mess he’s making. It’s the same way in the lab. He just takes off after an idea and goes; his mind moves too fast for him to keep up with himself, let alone try to explain to anybody else. As for him always showing up in here … I think he likes you, and is just very, very bad at communicating it.”

“He li-“ she paused. “Ew …” She said shivering slightly. “Why do I always attract creeps?” 

“With the ratio of creeps to non-creeps among men in general?” Lee shook her head. “It’s inevitable to attract a few creeps. It’s not just you, believe me. I don’t think Edward’s really a creep, though. He’s just awkward and doesn’t understand how people work. You can tell because guys get weirded out by him too; if he were able to control it, other men would think he was normal. Those are the ones you need to watch out for. I don’t think it’s his fault, so you may want to look for an opportunity to let him down gently … but clearly. Reading social cues is really not his forte.”

“What if you’re wrong, and he’s just trying to creep me out?” She asked. “What if I confront him about it and he gets worse!” In her experience men didn’t give up. 

“I really don’t think that’s the case,” Lee reassured her. “I work with Edward a lot, and he’s not great with social situations, but he’s a pretty good-natured guy. I’ll talk to him too, if you like. Let him know he’s been making you uncomfortable.”

“Can you? Please?” She asked. “Maybe it will be easier coming from you, and he might listen.” She said looking up at her. 

“Of course,” Lee said. “I have a little experience talking to him. I really think if he’s aware he’s bothering you, he’ll try to back off.”

“Hopefully. What’s wrong with him? He seems … Off.” She said carefully. 

“I’m not sure,” Lee said, caution in her tone and in her eyes. “And if I were sure, it would be confidential. Even just speculating like this, it would be a bad idea to go spreading it around the office.” She gave Kristen a pointed look. “Not everyone in this precinct is terribly understanding about mental health issues, and these things carry a lot of unnecessary stigma.”

“I wouldn’t say anything,” she said. “I’m not mean … Something like that could destroy his career, I don’t like him but I wouldn’t do that.” She said, surprised that Lee would even think that. 

Lee nodded, satisfied. “I just wanted to make sure you understand,” she said. “Edward’s behavior in situations that force him to interact with other people is consistent with someone who either has difficulty reading social situations, or becomes anxious or overwhelmed when he’s forced to deal with too many people at once. Given that he’s very detail-oriented, it’s possible that there’s just too much input and he becomes overwhelmed. I haven’t talked to him in the proper setting to really diagnose anything, but it seems possible that he could be somewhere on the autism spectrum. Some of his body language when he’s stressed is pretty consistent with that as well. There are other things that could result in similar social awkwardness, but … It’s common enough that I’d say it’s fairly likely.”

Kristen flinched slightly. “I didn’t even think it would be something like that.” She said feeling slightly guilty. “Maybe I should talk to him.” She said, though if it was autism, she had no experience dealing with something like that. “Don’t people with autism usually have an issue talking or looking at people? Nygma seems to have the opposite, he talks a lot and stares unusually.” 

“That’s part of why I couldn’t make a definite diagnosis without more time with him,” Lee agreed. “There could be any number of reasons for that, though. One is that maybe he used to struggle with eye contact, has been told repeatedly to look people in the eye, and has been conditioned to think it’s expected of him, so he overcompensates. It could also mean that it’s just not a symptom that affects him specifically; even for people with the same diagnosis, individual people can be affected differently. Or it could just mean that autism is the wrong diagnosis, and he’s dealing with something else.”

“That’s a possibility.” She said. “Maybe his mom kept him locked up in the attic or something and he never learned to interact with people.” She said, clearly a very bad joke. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. But yes, I’ll talk to him. But … Could you maybe still talk to him first?”

“Yes, I’ll talk to him first,” Lee agreed, letting that ill-thought-out joke go, since Kristen had already caught it herself and apologized for it. She was making an effort, at least, which was more than could be said for most people around here. “We get along pretty well, so I’m confident he’ll listen. He may be more nervous than before, though, after he realizes he’s been upsetting you, so try to be prepared for that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She said, getting up from her desk, looking around the files, wondering where exactly she should start. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

“Hi, Ed,” Lee said, coming down into the lab, seeing Edward hard at work as usual in his full protective gear. “What’s the watermelon for?”

“Oh, uh, I’m testing the velocity of a blade into something that is equivalent to a person. You see the watermelon's outer shell provides enough resistance to simulate stabbing a person. It’s not 100% accurate but accurate enough. From what I can tell the killer is right handed, the blade coming down from over his head. I’m going to do a few more tests to confirm my suspicions. Thank you for letting me use the medical lab,” He said looking back at the mess. “Much easier to clean up.” 

Lee surveyed the scene with raised eyebrows and a look of mild amusement. It was an odd method, but his reasoning was sound. “As long as you  _ do  _ clean it up, I don’t mind in the slightest,” she said. It wasn’t strictly orthodox, but Edward managed to get good results, and knew better than to ever damage the integrity of the evidence, so it didn’t hurt to let him do things his way. “Once you’re done murdering the produce, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

“Sure.” Edward said looking up at her. “I’m all ears. Did I do something wrong?” He asked, almost curiously, a little bit nervous despite the fact that he’d long since become comfortable working with her. He found her to be much nicer than their last medical examiner. 

“Not exactly,” Lee said, leaning against a clean, watermelon-free counter. “It’s just that one of our coworkers mentioned that, lately, the way that you act around her has been making her uncomfortable. I’m sure it’s unintentional, but I thought you should be aware of it.”

“Un … Uncomfortable?” Edward asked, shifting nervously. “Who?” He asked. As far as he’d known he’d been acting no differently than he usually had, then it came to him. “Miss. Kringle …” He said more than asked, and it was clear he was suddenly very uncomfortable himself. “I’m sorry … I hadn’t meant to … I just …” He looked down at the table, not meeting her eyes as he tried to think, suddenly completely flustered. “I just … I get nervous, around her … And I just say things.” 

“Of course you didn’t mean to,” Lee said understandingly. “It’s just that she feels like you’ve been singling her out, and she doesn’t understand why. When you show up in her workspace more often than anyone else, and move things around so they’re out of her system and not where she left them … It makes it very difficult for her to do her job. I’ve assured her that you don’t mean any harm, but … Can you imagine if someone kept coming down here, moving things around and messing with your system in ways that appear confusing to you, constantly requiring your attention for things that aren’t work-related? I doubt you would be thrilled about the situation either.”

“I …” Edward paused, feeling rather numb about the situation. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t meant to.” He said not really sure what else to say. He wasn’t sure what to do about it either, he wanted to apologize to her but that would involve doing the thing that was making her uncomfortable. 

“It’s alright,” Lee reassured him, noticing how much this realization seemed to bother him. “No one blames you. I just knew that you would never intentionally want to make Kristen uncomfortable, and if you were doing it on accident, you would want someone to tell you.”

Edward nodded, still not looking up at her. “Yes, thank you.” He said glancing up at her for a second before looking back down at his work. 

Lee took that as her cue to give him some space. “I’ll let you get back to your experiment here,” she said, knowing there was probably still further information to be gleaned from the watermelon. “Let me know if you want to talk about anything, okay?” 

“Of course.” He said with a very tight lipped smile, as if he were trying to pretend nothing happened. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

That tight-lipped smile, Lee knew, was a telling sign that Edward was upset and trying to hide it. But he was sending pretty clear signals right now that he wanted to be left alone, and she wouldn’t do him any favors by belaboring the issue. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Lee agreed, before picking up her things, hanging up her lab coat, and heading out, giving Edward his space. 


	9. Chapter 9

Kristen picked up the casserole and put it into the oven, before closing it and heading into the living room where Tom was watching football.

“Your team winning?” She asked as Tom put his arm around her, and she leaned into him.

“Yes, 10-1.” He said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“That’s good,” Kristen said, following his gaze, knowing better than to expect more than the briefest glimpses of eye contact right now. “So,” she said, trying to make conversation. “Lee talked to Nygma the other day about coming into the annex all the time. I feel kind of bad now, though. He’s been really nervous and quiet lately, like he’s afraid that if he even makes eye contact, or says more than two words at a time, it will somehow mortally offend me.”

“Uh-huh …” He said, still watching the game. “Can you get me a beer from the fridge?” He asked, thankfully the first of the night.

“Sure,” Kristen said, kissing him quickly on the cheek as she got up, resulting in no reaction whatsoever. She made her way to the fridge, acquiring a beer from his ‘game day stash’ which had been chilling to just the temperature he liked for this occasion. She closed the fridge, opening his beer for him as she returned with it and handed it to him, settling in next to him on the couch again. “Anyway, I suspect Lee was right; he just doesn’t do well with social situations.”

Tom glanced up at her as he took the beer, “Yeah, sounds good. Let’s do that.” He said, obviously not listening as he turned back to the game.

Kristen looked over at him in half-amused annoyance. Tom was such a guy, it was only to be expected, really. But still, they seemed to have so little time together lately that was actually fun, when they were both in a good mood, that the lack of acknowledgment rankled. “I also think Lee was right about him liking me,” she added in an off-handed tone, checking to see whether anything would get his attention at the moment.

“Mhmm,” He said taking a sip of his beer before he paused. “Wait, who? Who likes you?”

“Nygma, apparently,” Kristen said quickly, putting his mind at ease. It might have gotten his attention, but it wasn’t a good idea to give jealousy a chance to take root, especially with Tom. And she knew that he didn’t consider ‘The Riddle Man’ a threat in the slightest. “But he doesn’t know how to talk to people, and now he knows he’s been making me uncomfortable, so he kind of scampers around trying to avoid me noticing him. I feel kind of bad about it, honestly.”

“Riddle man?” Tom asked as a commercial came on. “I didn’t think he had an interest in women.” He said with a chuckle. “Though honestly, who can blame him. You’re quite the catch, but you’re mine. He knows that!”

“Yeah, he knows,” Kristen said, relaxing at his reaction. “And more importantly, so do I. Honestly, as much time as he spends with Lee, I’m surprised he hasn’t developed a crush on her, though she and Jim are as close as ever.”

“Well, to be fair, Lee is way out of his league. To be honest I think she’s way out of Jim’s league, but to each their own.” He said taking a much larger sip of his beer as the game came back on.

“Lee may be out of pretty much everyone’s league,” Kristen couldn’t help agreeing. She shook her head. “He really was a nervous wreck today. I hope he gets over it soon.”

“The guy seems rather lonely. Everyone at work makes fun of him. I don’t think he even has any friends … Maybe if you actually stopped being a bitch to him, and actually talked to him instead of avoiding the problem and making Lee do all your work for you, he’d stop acting skittish.” Tom said, though his eyes never left the television. “It sounds like he’s scared of you now.”

“I didn’t mean to make him scared of me,” Kristen said with a stab of guilt. Though Tom’s words hit her hard, for reasons she knew she couldn’t possibly make him understand. If she told him there had been times when Edward’s behavior scared _her,_ Tom would just laugh at her. “I’ll try talking to him tomorrow. Maybe it will help.”

Tom said nothing as he jumped up when his team scored a goal, spilling beer on the carpet as he did so. He was grinning as he sat back down. “I can’t believe Carlos had to work tonight. He’s missing a good game.” He said, ignoring what she had said.

“Yeah, it’s a shame,” she agreed absently. Honestly, she shouldn’t have really expected to listen to her during the game anyway. It was miraculous that they’d had even this much of a conversation.

“Oh don’t get that tone.” Tom said looking over at her before looking back at the television. “Why don’t you invite him over one night, give him a good pity fuck. That should calm him down.” He said with a wicked grin.

“Don’t be mean,” Kristen said, shaking her head. “If anything, I think that would just make him even more nervous.”

“Mean? I was making a fucking joke.” He said turning away from the television. “Why in the hell would I ever want you to sleep with another man? You know you’re mine!” He said harshly.

“I-I know that,” Kristen said, dread setting in sharply at his reactions, and she immediately regretted saying anything. If she had just kept her mouth shut, things wouldn’t have turned in this direction so quickly. “I just thought it was kind of a mean joke, that’s all.”

“It was just a joke Kristen … You need to lighten up.” He said, moving towards her on the couch, his arm going around her and pulling her towards him. “And if I ever catch you letting another man touch you … I will kill you.” He said, his voice sounding as if he were joking but at the same time, sounding all too serious.

“Good thing I don’t plan on it, then,” she said, forcing a joking smile in return, but her stomach tightened in knots at the flash of something brutal in his eyes, everything in her tensing as she was pulled against him, his embrace careless of the bruises he had left there just days before, and she was still sore where she found herself pressed up against him. But she didn’t dare pull away. As long as she just treated this like a joke that didn’t matter, it would remain one. Right now, she really didn’t like the idea of Tom getting serious.

“Really?” He asked, skeptically. “Then prove it.” He said looking down at her.

“You already know I don’t plan on it,” she said, confusion in her eyes as she looked back up at his. She wasn’t sure anymore if he was joking or not, and she didn’t want to misjudge the situation. This was still just his first beer though, she reminded herself. She should be fine. Tom was still himself. “How would you want me to prove that?”

“I think you can come up with a few reasons.” He said gripping her wrist and bringing her hand to his crotch. A blow job while he watched the game would make this night so much better.

Kristen looked up at him uncomfortably. Was this going to become a pattern now? It was one thing when she had been out late, and Tom was drunk, but like this? Was he just going to start throwing accusations around every time he wanted a little action?

“You could just ask,” she said quietly, though she didn’t move her hand away. She knew that ultimately, this would end with her doing it either way.

“Or you could stop being a bitch. You know what I want.” He said getting annoyed and sit back on the couch, her hand falling away from his crotch. “Maybe you should just go home.” He said, clearly unhappy as he took a large swig of his beer.

In that moment, she wanted to. In her mind, she pictured just getting up without a word, grabbing her purse, and walking out the door, leaving the casserole in the oven to burn. But it couldn’t be that easy. It never was. And she didn’t want to leave him angry now. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “It’s just … never mind.” Her hands moved back to his belt again.

Tom slapped her hand away, his knuckle hitting her wrist. “Are you disobeying me? I said go home! I’m watching the game, and you’re being fucking annoying!” He said slapping her hard enough she fell to the floor. As she hit the carpet he felt a slight pang of regret, but she had to learn to listen … He needed to teach her her place! And while that was on her knees in front of him with his cock in her mouth, right now she needed a new lesson. He stood up, looking down at her. “What did I tell you to do, Kristen?” He asked.

It happened so quickly that it took a moment to process it, even with the pain stinging in her face where he had hit her. She looked up at him from the carpet, stunned, hot tears gathering in her eyes, shaking, though whether it was from fear or from anger she wasn’t sure anymore. It was okay, though, she reassured herself. It was okay, this wasn’t really him. He was just … He was just … Nothing. He wasn’t drunk, he hadn’t had a bad day, he wasn’t worried or stressed. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him. “You … you said to leave,” she said, her voice low, shaky. And right now, that was one thing that they could agree on.

“And what are you doing?” He asked, bending down to grab onto her, hauling her painfully to her feet. “All I wanted to do was have a nice night, watch the game, have some supper and a little attention from my girl. Is that so much to ask? But no, you have to go and start fucking talking, trying to make me look like an idiot for making a joke because I was listening to you! How many guys do you think would turn from a game to listen to you talking about some guy at work? Huh?” He asked, shoving her into the wall. “Get the fuck out of my apartment, and don’t come back until you’re a little more fucking grateful!”

“Okay,” Kristen said, nodding quickly, her eyes wide at the wild look on his face, and she winced as the wall pressed hard against her bruises. He was really scaring her now. She didn’t even bother telling him that he was hurting her this time. He knew. He had to. Right now, she just wanted to go home. “I’ll leave.” But he had to let go of her first. Looking at him now, what he had said about killing her flashed through her head, and for the first time, it occurred to her that he really could.

“Good.” He said spanking her ass in a way that could be considered playful. “See you at work tomorrow.” He said going back over to the couch to watch the rest of the game.

Kristen stared at him for a moment, more bewildered by that painful spank than reassured, before, still shaking, she went and picked up her purse, just the way she had imagined doing moments before, and muttered tentatively, “ See you,” before she beat a hasty retreat, not stopping once she was out the door, walking too quickly to stop and think.

She made it halfway down the block before she realized she left her car at Tom’s along with her keys on his counter. She paused in the middle of the street, turning back the direction she’d come and stopped … She really didn’t want to go back to Tom’s, especially since that would require her to knock on the door and make him answer. She groaned, knowing how well that would turn out. 

She sat down on the curb, throwing her purse down and running her hand through her hair, pulling her ponytail out and tossing it down. She didn’t know what to do. It was too far away to walk to her apartment. She pulled out her cell phone, calling the only person she could think to. Lee.    
  
The phone rang continuously for nearly a minute before it went to voice mail.  _ ‘Hey it’s Lee’  _ Kristen hung up without leaving a message, she knew if she wasn’t answering she was either busy or at work … More likely at work.

She didn’t have anyone else to call … Then again … 

She grabbed her purse and pulled out the card Fish had insisted she take. Should she call her? Would this be seen as a weakness? Would she even help her? 

She shook her head. What else was she going to do? She pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number for Fish Mooney’s club. 

It rang almost ten times before someone answered. “Fish Mooney’s, Oswald speaking, how can I help you?” He asked. 

“Um, hi … can I talk to Miss. Mooney please?” She asked. 

“Can I ask who’s speaking?” He asked and Kristen almost started crying, her eyes watering. 

“Kristen … Uh, Kringle.” She said sniffing slightly as she wiped her tears away. 

“Oh, one moment.” He said putting the phone down. It was loud in the club and she could hear glasses clinking.

Within a few moments, she could hear a slight clunking series of movements as the phone was picked up, before Fish’s smooth, warm voice answered on the other end, “Hello there, Kristen. I must say it’s a pleasant surprise to hear from you again.”

“Perhaps … Not so pleasant.” She said wiping her eyes again. “I hate to bother you, but I didn’t know who else to call.” 

The shift in Fish’s tone was subtle, too concerned to be quite business-like, yet suddenly all serious, as if prepared to take action at a moment’s notice. It was unmistakable, though, that she had noticed the distress in Kristen’s voice. “What’s wrong, Kristen?” she asked immediately. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine … Just. Kind of upset. I had to leave Tom’s suddenly, and I left my keys at his apartment and …” She stopped, rubbing her hand over her head. “I’m sorry. I’m just not sure what to do and I had your card and-“ 

“And I told you to call me any time,” Fish reminded her, cutting off her apology decisively and taking charge of the situation. “Where are you now? I’ll come pick you up, and we can talk.”

“I’m not sure.” She said standing up and collecting her purse. She walked down the street. “Just a second …” She said, the phone still on her ear as she walked, feeling better that she didn’t right away shut her down. 

“I’m still here,” Fish assured her, waiting patiently for her to get her bearings. 

“Thank you.” She said finally reaching the corner. “I’m on the corner of 5th and Ness.” She said looking down the street where she was and seeing someone lingering by a doorway staring at her. “Though I don’t want to linger here.” She said, nervously. 

“No, I wouldn’t recommend that,” Fish agreed, sounding like someone who knew the area. “Go a little further down Ness and stop at the intersection with 4th. As long as you feel safer there, wait for five minutes and I’ll be right over. No one should bother you, but if they do, you show them my card. They’ll know to back off.”

“Right.” Kristen said. “Thank you.” She said hurrying towards 4th. 

“I’m on my way,” Fish reassured her. 


	10. Chapter 10

Hanging up the phone, Fish glanced over at Oswald, quickly turning options over in her mind. The club was already in full swing; closing it down would be out of the question tonight, and in any case, if she got into the habit of shutting down business every time her new pretty friend ran into trouble, people were going to talk, which would be bad for the both of them. However, she didn’t have any large, out-the-ordinary dealings going down tonight; it was just business as usual. If she left the place in competent and trustworthy hands, she could reasonably devote her full attention tonight to Kristen’s personal crisis.

“Oswald,” she said, earning his jumpy attention from over by the bar, where he looked up at her with wide, expectant eyes. “You’re in charge for tonight. I trust you can manage things here for one evening?”

“I-I-In charge?” He stuttered nervously, his eyes widening slightly.

“Yes,” Fish repeated, patting him on the cheek. “You’re with me constantly; you know the day-to-day workings of the club as well as anyone. I’m not expecting any new shipments in tonight, or anything else out of the ordinary. Butch will help you and make sure everyone listens to you, and if you encounter anything you can’t handle on your own, you can call me.”

“Right. Uh … Yes, of course!” Oswald said with a nervous, almost awkward smile. “Thank you.” He said, surprised she trusted him this much. But he also knew, if he messed anything up he’d be punished … And he really doubted Butch would help him. If anything, he’d likely set him up to fail.

“Good,” Fish said, before holding up a warning finger and looking him sharply in the eyes. “You see to it that everything runs smoothly. I’m holding you personally responsible.”

\---

Kristen paced nervously on the corner, looking down each street, and getting even more nervous every time she saw someone even relatively close. She held Fish’s card, clasped in both hands and held against her chest like it would shield her from everything around here.

Before long, Fish showed in the back of a classic red Cadillac, waiting for the driver to stop before unlocking the door as the car pulled up to let her in, those perceptive amber eyes of hers watching Kristen from under her long, black lashes, taking in everything from the absence of her signature ponytail to her exhausted posture to the slight wateriness of her eyes. “Have you eaten?” she asked.

Kristen nervously got into the car as Fish asked her question and for a moment it took her by surprise. “Oh uh … No, I hadn’t.” She said. “Thank you … I’m sorry for pulling you away from your night.”

Fish waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about that,” she said. “I’ve left the club in capable hands.” And, just as importantly, accountable hands. Oswald wouldn’t dare let her down. “You seem like you could use a nice quiet dinner and a listening ear,” she said, touching her lightly on the arm. “What are you in the mood for? French? Italian?”

“Anything is fine.” Kristen said, slightly embarrassed now. She just really needed a ride home, and she had no money on her, and now Fish was inviting her to dinner? “You can just take me home if you want. I don’t want to ruin your evening.”

“You’re not ruining anything, I assure you. I told you before, I would very much like to have dinner with you again,” Fish said, her head tilting as she seemed to study Kristen’s face with that piercing look of hers. “Are you sure that’s what you want? Just to go home? You’ll forgive me if I’m out of line, but you don’t seem like you should be alone right now.”

“It’s just … A long night. Tom had an emergency, someone in his family passed away and he had to leave suddenly and I was there and … He wasn’t really thinking, he was rather upset. So I couldn’t go back and get my car keys because the doors locked and he’s gone and … I don’t know. Just things took a turn very quickly before either of us knew what was happening.” She said, her fingers playing over the strap of her purse. “But if you want to go to dinner … I’d be fine with that.” She said, grateful for the distraction. Maybe tomorrow she’d call in sick and take a day to herself.

Fish watched her face intently, with a knowing look that hinted that she suspected there were a few parts of Kristen’s story that weren’t quite true, but she left that alone for now. “It sounds like you’ve both had an awful evening,” she said smoothly, pushing a button to lower the partition between them and the driver. “I know a quiet little French bistro where you can relax a little and tell me all about it.” She signaled to the driver. “To Le Jardin,” she instructed him, before the car moved forward smoothly and she closed the partition again.

Kristen looked up at her in surprise. “Le Jardin? I …” she paused, blushing. “I can’t afford that place.”

“Never mind that,” Fish assured her, leaning back against the soft leather seats of the Cadillac. “I want to treat you. You’ll like the place, trust me. It’s nice, but also cozy.”

“Oh, you’ve already done so much for me.” She said, her face turning red. Le Jardin really was expensive, for the ritziest of Gothamites.

“And I would love to do more,” Fish said with a small smile. “In any case, I think a nice evening out would do us both some good.”

Kristen smiled softly, looking up at her through her lashes. “That sounds nice.” She said, inwardly hoping Tom would not find out, and at the same time feeling a pang of guilt that she was doing this.

Before long, they pulled up in front of a picturesque stonework building, gold lettering on a wine-red sign proclaiming it “Le Jardin.” A man in a matching red waistcoat standing at the ready at the valet parking station stepped forward before noting the driver and going to open the Cadillac’s back doors instead. Fish instructed the driver to be nearby and expect a call in a couple of hours, before the casually linked her arm around Kristen’s and led her along as she sauntered forward, a doorman greeting her by name as he held the door for them. Inside, the lighting was soft, each round linen-clothed table with its own warmly flickering candle, and the chairs were all cushioned in that same matching wine-red color. Artwork of scenes from the French countryside adorned the walls, and the scents wafting from the kitchen were beyond divine. A hostess started to ask if she had a reservation, before looking up from her list and recognizing who it was.

“I’m sorry, Miss. Mooney,” the girl said quickly, evidently embarrassed that she had even implied that Fish Mooney would need a reservation. “Will you be having your usual table tonight?”

“That would be perfect,” Fish said evenly, ignoring the hostess’ momentary lapse.

“Right this way.” The hostess said, grabbing two menus and leading them to the table. “Can I get you two anything to drink to start?”

“What do you think?” Fish asked, looking over at Kristen. “Shall we get a bottle of wine to share?”

Kristen turned the page of the menu slowly. Everything here was expensive. At Fish’s mention of wine she turned the page and had to refrain from widening her eye in shock. Just a bottle of wine alone was $7,000. And that was their cheapest one. It ranges all the way up to $14,000! That was insane for a bottle of wine! That was half her yearly income.

“Um … What ever you like.” She said, nervously looking around.

“A bottle of the Merlot to start, I think,” Fish decided, recalling Kristen’s preference for reds the last time they had dined together. She looked a little amused at the look on Kristen’s face. Not everyone she took out to places like this was so appreciative.

The hostess took down the order and left them to look over the menu.

“I feel so underdressed.” Kristen said, playing with the tips of her hair. Everyone here is so well dressed, all so rich … She felt like an outsider invading somewhere she shouldn’t be, and she couldn’t help but feel like everyone was staring at her.

“Nonsense,” Fish said, her hand brushing lightly against Kristen’s as she took in that shy look on Kristen’s pretty face. “You look lovely, as always. And I always feel that the best outfit for any occasion is one that is worn with confidence.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I have that much confidence. But I can try.” She said, her blush not fading.

“You’ll get there,” Fish assured her, her hand still lingering over hers, as if testing to see whether Kristen would allow it to remain there. “Until then, I suspect I have enough confidence for the both of us.”

Kristen laughed slightly. “This is true. You have a lot of confidence … Enough for more than just the both of us.” She said with another laugh.

“Well, you have to in my business,” Fish said with a small smile, her shoulders shifting slightly as she talked. “Or to get anywhere in this town, for that matter. Take this place, for example. Behind the chic, exclusive ambiance they’ve crafted today, the owners are just a sweet elderly couple who came to Gotham when they were younger. The wife grew up in French farm country and learned every one of her great grandmother’s traditional recipes by heart, whereas the husband studied haute cuisine in Paris. When they first set up shop here, it was just a little mom and pop place, no valet parking, no waiting lists for reservations, and they certainly couldn’t afford to import in these rare high-end wines. The food was exquisite even back then, but that wasn’t enough to make a business take off like this. After decades content where they were, a couple of reviews from well-known food critics and a couple of connections in the right places, and they gained the confidence to see if they could rebrand themselves. They took the gamble, invested in a new venue in a better part of town, went the extra mile for rarer higher quality ingredients, and splurged on the kinds of wines Gotham’s elite would expect from a place like this …” She gestured widely at their general surroundings. “And here they are. The talent was always there, but it took confidence to make this happen.”

“Confidence? Sounds more like chance to me.” Kristen said. “But I see your point. You would have to have confidence to make such a gamble in the first place, or to even consider it.”

“A little of both, honestly,” Fish said with a shrug. “I find most things are. You don’t choose the hand you’re dealt, but you have to be confident enough to make the right moves when the opportunity presents itself.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.” Kristen said. “It’s a matter of that opportunity presenting itself sometimes.”

“That’s true,” Fish agreed. “Though it’s also important to recognize those opportunities when they present themselves, and go after what you want.” She took her glass as the waitress returned with the bottle of wine they had ordered, filling both of their glasses for them. “Of course, everyone doesn’t get the same opportunities, but you wouldn’t believe how many people have the opportunity to be happy, but just let life pass them by.”

“Yes, I’ve known a few people like that.” She said, sampling her wine. “This wine is amazing!” She said looking over at the bottle in the little metal bin of ice next to their table. She leaned in slightly and whispered, “Still a bit pricy in my opinion.” She said before leaning back again. “But it’s good.”

Fish laughed a little at that. “I’m glad you like it,” she said, settling back in her chair. “Now that we both have some amazing wine, why don’t you tell me a little more about your day? It sounds like it’s been trying to say the least.”

“Oh my day was fine. I’m having a bit of drama at work with a guy that works there, though that may be my fault. It’s been brought to my attention that I may have been quite the bitch, and he’s … Well … I’ll say a little sensitive and has been avoiding me for the past three days.” Kristen said, avoiding the topic of Tom entirely.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re just making yourself feel worse about it than the situation warrants,” Fish said. “I think a simple apology should clear things up in this case. You can’t spend too much time worrying what other people thing.” She took a sip of her wine. “What does Tom think about it?” she asked casually, wondering if it was at all connected to what had happened this evening.

“He thinks I should talk to him. The entire situation started because I had a friend of mine talk to him for me … He was creeping me out but …” She paused. “Can you promise this stays between us?”

“Of course,” Fish said, leaning forward slightly in her chair, watching her intently. “I promise.” Granted, she knew there was only so far that Kristen trusted her at this point, but if she had any idea just how many secrets Fish was carrying around at any given time, she wouldn’t have worried about it in the slightest.

“Well I found out that the guy that was creeping me out … He wasn’t doing it on purpose and I was kind of mean about it. Lee said he shows symptoms of autism, which means he doesn’t really know how to interact with people and I took it as a personal offense, when Lee said she thinks he actually likes me …” She said with a shrug. “I just never really thought it would be something like that. I just thought he was trying to creep me out, or was trying to get me to quit.”

“I can understand why you would feel bad about that,” Fish admitted, swirling her wine glass thoughtfully. “But that doesn’t change the fact that his actions were upsetting and disturbing you, and you had a right to assert yourself and say something, so that you can feel secure in your own work place. And if he really didn’t mean to creep you out, then someone needed to let him know. If he’s avoiding you like that, he’s probably just worried that he’s going to accidentally creep you out again. I think if you just tell him in a very straightforward way that you’re not actually mad at him, you’ll both feel better about the whole thing.”

“But I didn’t assert myself and say something. I had my friend say something and I feel that may have upset him more than if I talked to him myself.” She said with a slight sigh. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow at work, I think he’s working …” She said shaking her head. “I mean … Of course he is, he’s always working.” She said with a slight laugh. “There’s honestly jokes going around the GCPD if he actually has a home, he’s always there.”

“Sounds like he’s rather dedicated to his work,” Fish said with a small smile. And therefore perhaps another good contact to know. But she filed that particular opportunity away for now. Tonight was about Kristen. “Really, I’m sure just talking to him directly will straighten things out.”

“Maybe …” She said. “But enough about work, how was your day?” She asked almost awkwardly. What did one ask Fish Mooney?

“Productive,” Fish said with a small smile, a little gratified that Kristen thought to ask. It was rather sweet, really. “Collected some debts, which can be … eventful. Strengthened some old connections, and picked up a couple of new acts for the club. There’s a band that I think will really liven the place up, and a comedian who … well, I know he’s a little corny, but I like him.”

“Corny can be good.” She said with a soft smile. “I find the best jokes are corny ones.”

“Honestly, it was a little refreshing,” Fish said looking back at her across the table. “To see someone who seems to enjoy what they do instead of trying far too hard.”

“Yes, I find that a lot now a days. Too many people focused on perfecting everything, rather than just enjoying what they like.” She said sipping her wine. “I’ll admit, I do it myself. But it’s nice to just sit back and enjoy something, even if you aren’t good at it.”

“And what would that be for you?” Fish asked, her hand trailing over Kristen’s again. “Something you do just to enjoy it?”

“Oh, it’s … Silly, really.” She said waving it off, biting her bottom lip before she took a sip of her wine.

“You do realize that just makes me want to hear about it more,” Fish said, her head inclined slightly, a small appreciative smile at how cute Kristen looked when she was nervous.  
  
Kristen sighed lightly before looking around. “I uh … I like painting.” She said blushing slightly. “I’m horrid at it. But … I enjoy it.”

A delighted look spread across Fish’s face at that revelation. “I would love to see that,” she said. “And perhaps give you a more unbiased view. You say you’re horrid at it, but I’ve never once met an artist who didn’t think so, no matter how good they were. What do you like to paint?”

“Anything really,” She said with a slight shrug, her hands playing with her wine glass. “It depends on my mood.”

“So,” Fish mused, watching the self-consciousness in Kristen’s body language. Despite how self-effacing she was about this, it was clearly important to her. “People? Still lifes? Landscapes? All of the above?”

“All of the above, though my people turn out more like blobs of peach paint.” She said with a chuckle.

“Well, that’s when you tell everyone it’s stylized modern art,” Fish said, still thoroughly enjoying how much more Kristen was opening up to her than before, even if there were still some segments of her life that she seemed to keep closed off. That was alright, though. With Kristen, Fish rather liked taking her time, slowly becoming more familiar with her. “Though if you’re more concerned with enjoying the process than marketing it, that’s less of an issue.” Fish hesitated for a moment, considering opening up a little in return. In most circumstances, Fish rather prided herself in being mysterious and aloof, but … she could hardly expect Kristen to open up any further without giving a little in return. “Do you know what I’m absolutely awful at?” she asked in a conspiratorial tone.

Kristen’s eyes raised to hers, her eyebrows slightly raised. “It’s hard to imagine you’re awful at anything.” She said, her cheeks tinging red again. But it was true. It was hard to imagine, with all of Fish’s confidence, to imagine that she was terrible at anything.

“Knitting,” Fish admitted, aware that no one was within earshot. “It’s relaxing, though.” Particularly when she was trying to get to sleep and still had a million different problems and schemes and ideas running circles around each other in her head. She held up a finger and gave her a cautionary look, though there was a hint of humor to it. “If you ever tell anyone I knit, though, I will deny it, and no one will believe you.”

“Knitting?” She asked with a smile, a look of amused surprise on her face. “Well, now that is something I never would have imagined. But now I for some reason I can’t get it out of my head. I mean, yeah, you sitting in front of a fire place, in a nice pair of footy pajamas, a cup of hot chocolate … Knitting.” She said, trying to hide her smile.

“Footy pajamas?” Fish said with a grimace, as if the fashionista in her was mortally offended, and she shook her head, as if to banish the same image that Kristen had conjured. But the grimace resolved into a smirk, her eyes alight with amusement. “Of course, that exact image is why no one will believe it. So, my little yarn-crafted secret is safe with you. I just don’t have the right grandmotherly persona for it … which might be why I can’t seem to make anything but scarves. I tried to do a sock once … The attempt was fun, but it turned out so awful that I had to burn the evidence in that cozy fire you were just picturing.” She shook her head. “I do have a very nice fireplace, though, and I might indulge in the occasional mug of hot chocolate … though I prefer mine with a little bourbon or vodka.”

“I like mine with a little Baileys’.” Kristen said smiling softly. “And don’t knock footie pajamas until you’ve tried them. One night around Christmas, just put on a pair of footie pajamas, get some some hot chocolate, start up a fire … You’ll be amazed! My parents used to take me skiing every year for Christmas, up in Sun Peaks. I remember coming in, it would be dark already, I’d be freezing, but it was so much fun. We’d come in and change into our pajamas, and have hot cocoa, and my father would read me a story.” She said fondly.

“That does sound nice,” Fish said with a small smile, watching the way Kristen’s whole expression brightened with nostalgia. She wondered whether she might ever be able to elicit that kind of warmth from her. “Are you and your family close?”

Kristen’s expression suddenly changed, her finger running over the base of her wine glass. “No …” She said quietly. “We never were. I have the occasional fond memory but …” She paused, taking a deep breath. “The ski resort was always my favourite. One of the few times I actually felt like we were a family.”

Fish nodded. “I understand,” she said, not delving any deeper into the matter. “I guess that means they haven’t met Tom, then?” she asked. It made sense. From what Fish could tell, Dougherty was mediocre at best, nowhere near Kristen’s league intellectually, and she got the impression that he was a little controlling, to say the least. Not the sort of man that Kristen’s family was likely to be overly excited about.

“Oh, they’ve met Tom. They loved him.” She said sighed. “Or more accurately, they love that he has money. He told them he works at the GCPD because he likes helping people and it gives him something to do.”

“Is that true, though?” Fish asked, watching her face curiously. Dougherty definitely had a cocky enough attitude to have come from money, but that didn’t stop him from doing business with her. And Kristen didn’t wear any of the expensive trinkets that men with money often bought their girlfriends to show off. Of course, that could just mean that she preferred not to wear them.

“That he has money? Or that he likes helping people?” Kristen asked.

“Both,” Fish said, looking back at her across the table.

“He has money.” She said nodding. “He came from a wealthy family. His parents passed away shortly ago and everything went to him. He was a single child so … As for helping people … I’m not so sure about that. I think he just likes gloating about his heroics. He likes the attention.”

“I see,” Fish said, noting Kristen’s less than thrilled manner when she talked about him. “You’ll forgive me for saying so, but it sounds like things have been a little …” She thoughtfully considered the right word. “Tense between the two of you lately. Is everything alright?”

“Tense?” She asked with a frown. “Not at all. What makes you say that?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” Fish said, thoughtfully swirling her wine glass. “It’s just that situation today, it sounds like you’re both under a lot of stress. And, well … you don’t seem as glad as most people would be that your family likes your boyfriend, even if it’s not for a reason you can agree on.”

“It’s …” Kristen paused, choosing her next words carefully. “Less to do with Tom and more to do with my parents … They never approve of my boyfriends so for them to approve of Tom … I don’t know … It just gave me a weird feeling.”

“I suppose that could be weird,” Fish acknowledged with a slight wave of her hand, appearing pensive. “Their reasoning is a little off, certainly. Granted, money is useful, but there are a number of ways to get it if you don’t have it, and even more ways to lose it once you do, so it’s hardly a sound reason to like someone.” She watched Kristen’s face intently, keeping her own expression neutral, giving nothing away. “But the important thing is that you approve of him, isn’t it? I’m sure there are plenty of things you like about him.”

“Of course there is.” She said as a waiter came over to them.

“Are you two ready to order?” He asked. Kristen nearly jumped and looked down at the menu.

“Oh, we were so busy talking I wasn’t even looking.” She said, her eyes trailing over the options. Half of it she didn’t even know what it was. “Is there anything you’d recommend?”

“If you like beef, their filet mignon is a house specialty,” Fish suggested. “They also do a mean porterhouse steak. If you’re more in the mood for poultry, their coq au vin would go well with this wine, and their duck a l’orange is the best in Gotham.”

“I think I’ll go for the filet mignon.” Kristen said.

“Would you like the tomato cream sauce or the rich balsamic glaze with that?” He asked and Kristen thought about it a moment before she nodded.

“Let’s go with the tomato.” She said as the waiter was writing down her order.

“And would you like that with mashed potatoes, hash browns, or salad?”

“Which would you recommend?” She asked him.

“With the tomato cream sauce I would recommend the hash browns. They accent it very nicely.” He said and she nodded.

“Hash browns it is.” Kristen said closing her menu and handing it to the waiter. He placed it under his pad and turned to Fish.

“And for yourself Miss. Mooney?” He asked.

“I’ll have the duck a l’orange,” Fish said, closing the menu and handing it back to him. “With the garlic truffle mashed potatoes.”

“Coming right up.” He said with a soft smile as he took her menu and headed over to the kitchen.

“Now, what was it we were talking about?” Fish asked, her head tilted slightly, appearing to think for a moment, before she said, “Ah, yes. The things you like about Tom.”

She had really hoped she would have forgotten or allowed the change of subject. “I really don’t feel comfortable talking about him.” She said with a shrug. “Can we ... maybe, talk about something else?”

“Alright,” Fish said, leaning back slightly in her chair as she backed off the subject. “Tell you what, you’ve had a stressful week, why don’t you come take a weekend away with me? It seems like you could use the relaxation.”

“A we … I can’t do that.” She said bluntly. “What would I tell Tom? And I work!” She said getting slightly flustered at the offer.

“When is your next day off?” Fish asked, unperturbed. “We both know you need it. And it sounds like Tom has enough on his plate right now. Would he really resent your being away for just a couple of days?”

“I don’t know, it’s just … Not good timing right now.” She said nervously.

“Is it the timing?” Fish asked quietly, leaning forward slightly over the table. “Or is it that you don’t want to? It’s okay to tell me no, I promise.”

“I’d love to. It’s just … It’s not a good time.” Kristen said, honestly not knowing what to tell Tom if she did.

“Alright,” Fish said, accepting that answer for now. “I’ll leave it to you to let me know if a better time comes up, or if you change your mind.”

“I will. I promise.” She said, before hearing a faint buzz coming from her purse. She thought to ignore it but … What if it was Tom? She glanced at her phone quickly and saw Tom’s name and number flashing across the screen. “Oh, it’s Tom.” She said looking at Fish apologetically. “Can you excuse me for just a moment?”

“Of course,” Fish said with a magnanimous wave. “Let him know you’re alright.”

Kristen stepped away from the table and headed outside as she answered her phone. “Hey Tom.” She said almost nervously.

“Hey babe.” Tom said sweetly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Kristen said, trying hard to sound confident, and not to think about that look in his eyes when he had knocked her to the floor earlier.

“Look, I’m … Sorry about what happened. It’s just sometimes you make me so …” He paused and sighed. “Will you come back tonight?”

“I …” Kristen hesitated, feeling trapped. Strangely, this corner of the restaurant seemed to have less air somehow. “I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Tom asked, sounding hurt. “Why not?”

Because she was out with Fish Mooney. Because she was too afraid of him right now. Because the thought of going back to his apartment right now filled her stomach with a sick feeling of dread. But she couldn’t tell him any of that. So she lied.

“I’m with Lee,” she said, guilt settling heavily over her. But right now, it really seemed like the only way to handle this. “I’m sorry, if I’d known you were going to call, I wouldn’t have gone out.”

“Just tell her you want to come here. She’ll understand. Where are you, I’ll come pick you up.” He said sweetly.

“That’s really sweet of you,” Kristen said, feeling suddenly conflicted. Now that he was being so nice, she couldn’t help wondering if she was somehow in the wrong for wanting to be away from him tonight. Maybe her imagination had blown the whole incident out of proportion … But no. The bruises still ached, reaffirming her memory. And the older ones from earlier this week, still dark under her sweater, insisted that this might be something more than a series of isolated incidents. This might be a pattern.

“So, where are you?” He asked, putting his shoes on. “You left your car keys here, the least I can do is pick you up.”

“It’s alright,” Kristen said, annoyed at how easily he could act like nothing had happened. “Lee says she’ll take me home. I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble, not after I already interrupted your game like that. You deserve a relaxing evening. You can just get the keys to me at work tomorrow.”

“So … You don’t want to come over?” He asked, sounding rather hurt. “The game's over. I really am sorry about what happened. But … I’d be able to relax a lot better if you were here with me.” He said in a hopeful tone.

“Honestly, I was just going to go home after dinner,” Kristen said. “I’m not feeling too well. I’m sorry, but I just really need an early night tonight.”

“Oh, well … Okay. I just really hoped you would come over and let me make it up to you. But … If you don’t want to, that’s fine.” He said. “I guess I’ll just … See you at work tomorrow. Do you want me to pick you up?”

“That’s alright,” Kristen reassured him, feeling a little strange about the disappointment in his voice, even though she was in no hurry to see him right now. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure … Will you come over tomorrow?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Kristen said, not seeing any way to get out of it. But then, she loved Tom, didn’t she? She could think through things and figure out what was going on between them by tomorrow. “Sure. That would be nice.”

“Okay.” Tom said quietly. “Kristen, you know I love you, right?” He asked.

“I love you too,” Kristen said quietly. And for some absurd reason she almost felt like crying. Admittedly, it was nice to hear him say it when they weren’t having sex … Maybe that was just making her a little emotional. Yeah, that was it.

“Alright … I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said, clearly disappointed as he hung up. Kristen sighed and leaned back against the brick wall of the building, her eyes closed as she snapped her phone shut. She couldn’t help but feel that wave of guilt at how sad he sounded that she wasn’t coming over. Perhaps she should stop by tonight … Ease the situation, and maybe things would be better. Maybe. He did love her after all.

 


	11. Chapter 11

She took a deep breath, and made up her mind. After dinner, she would go over to Tom’s and they’d make up. Of course they would, He was always so sweet after.

She put her phone back into her purse and headed back inside, the host nodding to her as she passed. She ignored the stares she got as she moved back to the table to sit back down with Fish.

“I’m so sorry about that.” She said. “He’s back home now. I wanted to make sure he was okay.”

“Is everything alright?” Fish asked, looking intently at her face. “If you need to go see him, I can take you.”

“It’s fine.” She said quietly, in no hurry to get there. “He said he wanted some time alone for a bit to think … I told him I was fine. Though I know being out with you makes him nervous, I told him I was with Lee. I’ll call her later and tell her to cover for me. It’s no big deal.” She said with a slight shrug.

“If it makes things easier on you to tell him that, I don’t mind,” Fish said, her head tilted slightly. “Lee is a good friend, I take it?”

“She is. She’s the ME at the GCPD.” She said with a nod. “She’s probably one of the few actual friends I have that I can trust. Everyone in this city is just so …” She paused and shook her head with a shrug, unable to think of an adequate word.

“Conniving?” Fish supplied with a small smile. “I can think of a few other words until I hit the right one, if you’d like.”

“Oh I’m sure there are several words that fit just what I’m looking for.” She said with a laugh as the waiter brought them their food. She thanked him quietly before he nodded to Fish and left again. “This looks amazing.”

Fish nodded. “It always does,” she agreed, the scent of perfectly balanced seasoning  and sauces over perfectly cooked meat wafted up from both plates. “But once you get over how pretty it looks enough to try it, it tastes even better.”

“But it’s just so pretty.” She said with a slight laugh as she picked up her fork and knife. “Thank you so much, for inviting me to dinner. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” Fish said, a small smile on her face as she looked back at her. “I happen to like the company.”

Kristen blushed slightly at that. “So you keep saying.” She said, a small smile playing on her lips.

“It’s true,” Fish said with a shrug, cutting into her duck a l’orange. “And it’s also fun to make you blush like that.”

“I don’t blush!” She said, her hands going to her cheeks, absolutely mortified.

“Oh, but you definitely do,” Fish said, a smile spreading across her face. “Don’t worry, though. You wear it well.” If Kristen ever realized just how absolutely adorable she could be, she’d become positively dangerous.

“Well I suppose that’s a compliment?” She asked, looking a bit confused on how to take that. “Thank you.”

“Once again, it’s true,” Fish said, finding Kristen’s confusion rather endearing. She took another sip of her wine. “So, how are you liking this place?”

“It’s … Pricey.” She said looking around. “To be honest I feel a little embarrassed. I’m quite underdressed.” She said brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “But the food is delicious.”

“It is,” Fish agreed. “I don’t think you’re underdressed at all, though. You look lovely.” Now that it came to mind, however, Fish realized she would very much like to see Kristen all dressed up. “And I like this sweater on you,” she said, reaching over and touching Kristen’s sleeve. As she did, it pushed back slightly, revealing dark bruising at her wrist. Fish’s sharp eyed picked it up quickly, and before Kristen could stop her, she tugged the sleeve back further, finding that the bruising continued. Her back straightened, a restrained fury in her eyes as she met Kristen’s and asked very, very quietly, “What is this?”

“Oh, uh … It’s nothing, really.” Kristen said, gently pulling her hand away, her other hand pulling her sleeve back down into place as her face reddened. “Just some … Late night activities got a bit rough. That’s all.”

“Kristen,” Fish said seriously, her gaze unwavering. “I’m no stranger to ‘a bit rough.’ And we both know that’s not what those are.”

“That’s exactly what they are and I’d appreciate it if you’d drop the matter.” Kristen said a bit more firmly than she meant to. This was Fish Mooney she was talking to after all.

Fish regarded her for a long moment, the anger in her eyes giving way to an intense concern as she seemed to search Kristen’s face. “If you’re not ready to talk about it, I won’t push it,” she said softly. “But if you’re putting up with this because you’re afraid, you have someone far scarier on your side.”

“I’m not afraid, and I’m not putting up with anything.” She said resting her hands back on the table. “I-I liked it …” She stuttered.

Fish gave Kristen a deadpan look. “Then you need to talk to your man about his technique. Because there’s nothing that should be leaving marks that bad if he’s doing it right.”

“Can we change the topic, please?” Kristen asked, tilting her head slightly as she looked up at her.

Fish met Kristen’s eyes with that piercing look of hers, as if seeing right through her. Then, she nodded. “If that’s what you want,” she said, though the look in her eyes made it clear this wasn’t over. “If at some point, though, you find there’s something you want to talk about without judgment … you’ll find that I’m a good listener.”

“I appreciate the thought, but there is nothing to talk about.” She said turning back to her meal.

“My mistake, then,” Fish said, jabbing her fork into her duck a l’orange a little more forcefully than necessary. That thuggish pompous pig was smacking Kristen around, probably more often than the girl would ever let on. There were measures Fish could take to ensure once and for all that it never happened again … But then, Kristen would know it was her. And if she wasn’t ready to leave him yet on her own terms, she was highly unlikely to thank her for it. “You choose the topic. I believe we were talking about that lovely sweater of yours.”

“My sweater?” She asked, looking up at her. “It’s just something I found at the thrift store.” She said picking at her food. It was strange saying that to someone who didn’t have to worry about money. Didn’t have to worry about where her next meal was coming from. Someone who could afford the best of everything, including this meal.

Fish’s eyebrows raised slightly. “That was a good find,” she said, impressed. “If I recall correctly, the thrift stores in Gotham are pretty hit-and-miss; you have to really know how to look, or just be lucky enough to go in on the right day.” She went with the change of subject for now, committing to it, even though she hated to leave things be. But Kristen wasn’t ready to confide in her yet, and she never would be if Fish pressed the point too much now and scared her away for good. She would have to be patient. Anyway, Kristen had at least trusted her enough to call when she was stranded. That was a start. “You must have some talent for shopping.”

“Not really. I just find things that fit that relatively suit my style.” She said pushing up her glasses. “My wardrobe is rather … various?” She asked, wondering if that was even the proper word to use.

“From what I’ve seen, you seem to favor things in a classic style that look flattering on you,” Fish said, taking another sip of her wine. “It seems to suit you.” Though she rather liked the idea now of taking Kristen out on a shopping spree sometime, letting her pick whatever she wanted.

“Thank you.” She said, seeming to say that a lot tonight. “You’re very kind.” She said and for the millionth time wondered why.

“I happen to like you,” Fish said with a small smile. “Do you want to do something tomorrow?” she asked. “When do you get off of work?”

“I’m actually busy tomorrow.” Kristen said nervously. She had hoped that after tonight Fish wouldn’t ask her again, as much as she was grateful for the help and for the meal. If Tom found out …

“The next night, then?” Fish presser, undeterred. She might have dropped the subject of those bruises for now, but if Tom thought he could keep Kristen isolated, he had another thing coming. No. She would be checking up on Kristen relentlessly, now that her worst suspicions were confirmed.

“No, I …” She paused, wondering what excuse she could come up with. “I don’t … Think that would be entirely appropriate.”

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Fish asked directly, meeting her eye with that intense stare of hers.

“Un-” Kristen paused, her eyes darting up to hers. “Uncomfortable? No.” Not until just this moment, and perhaps when they’d first met. But she’d stopped being uncomfortable half way through their last dinner, and while she still made her slightly nervous, she wouldn’t say she made her uncomfortable. “It’s just … I don’t want Tom to think … I mean … He gets a little protective, if he thinks someone else may have an interest. And I don’t want to give him the wrong idea.”

Fish nodded, thinking she understood. “He would do well to trust you a little more,” she said, folding her hands. “But I don’t want to cause you any trouble. You understand, though, that I would like to keep in touch, to see how you’re doing. So, if it’s not that you don’t want to see me …” she said with a pointed look, inviting Kristen to speak up now if that was the case. “Then can you suggest a better way to do that?”

“I … No.” She said, sounding almost defeated. No matter what, she’d be afraid of Tom finding out. He didn’t even want her to go to dinner with her the first time, and even though she’d had no choice he still took it out on her. She couldn’t imagine how he’d react if he found out she was seeing her behind his back.

“Kristen,” Fish said, leveling that unwavering gaze back at her. “What do you want? Not what do you think is appropriate, or what does Tom want, or what do you think I want to hear. What do _you_ want?”

Kristen looked up at her, her eyes slightly wide. She’d never been asked that before. “I …” She paused, thinking of what she wanted. “I don’t know. Can I maybe think about it?”

“You can,” Fish said with a nod, before taking a sip of her wine. “And then perhaps you’ll call me to let me know.”

“Yes, I’ll call you,” she said, though she really felt like she was torn between a rock and hard place. She felt like she had to say no because of Tom, but at the same time she felt like Fish wouldn’t accept that.

“I would also very much appreciate it,” Fish said, giving her a pointed look. “If you would regularly inform me that you’re safe. It’s a dangerous city, after all. Do you think you can manage that?”

Kristen refrained from flinching. Could she manage that? She’d heard that so many times from both Flass and Tom, thinking she was too stupid to manage the simplest tasks. Of course she could manage to text her … “Yes,” she said meekly.

At the look on Kristen’s face, Fish frowned, her worry showing in a slight pinching between the eyebrows. “I’ve said something that bothers you,” she observed, her dark eyes concerned. “Or was it the way I said it?”

“It’s nothing. You didn’t say anything that bothers me. I can text you, it’s fine,” she said forcing a small smile.

“Kristen,” Fish said, looking so genuinely concerned that it was hard not to trust her, as she reached across the table to lightly touch Kristen’s hand. “I’m a little too good at reading people for that. I can tell I upset you. Please tell me how, so I can avoid doing it again.”

“You didn’t-“ She paused at the look Fish gave her. “It’s just … When you said ‘do you think you can manage that?’ … I’ve heard it a lot in the past, usually implying I’m stupid or incapable of completing simple tasks.” She said with a slight shrug. “It’s usually said in a very condescending way, and I don’t think you meant it that way it’s just … Association that I haven’t been able to shake.”

Fish’s expression tightened slightly around the eyes once Kristen explained, and she nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry,” she said seriously. “Believe me, I have absolute faith that you’re more than competent in a variety of subjects, let alone that you can send me a simple text. I just wanted to be sure that it won’t get you into trouble with Tom.”

“It might. I’ll just have to make sure I delete them if there’s a risk of him seeing.” She said, hating that she was keeping something from him. And if she did keep this from him and he found out … It would provide him with just cause to believe that she was cheating. Why else would she keep it from him? She supposed in a way this was cheating. Oh god, was she cheating on her boyfriend?

“Are you alright?” Fish asked, that concern in her eyes again. “You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine.” She said with a soft smile. “Though I shouldn’t stay out too late tonight. I have to work in the morning.”

“Of course,” Fish agreed. “I forget sometimes that people who don’t work in the nightclub business keep normal hours. Do you think you have time for a little dessert, though?”

“You’ve already done so much for me tonight …” Kristen said, blushing.

“And as a result, I’ve had the benefit of your company,” Fish said with a small smile, sliding a dessert menu over to her. “If you have a little time, why not look that over. See if there’s anything that tempts you.”

“Well, I have always wanted to try Mille-feuille.” She said, skimming the menu, though she was sure she said it wrong.

“You’ll have no better opportunity,” Fish said approvingly. “This place has the best mille-feuille in Gotham.” She signaled a passing waiter, ordering the crème brûlée herself, as well as a couple of coffees once Kristen had placed her order.

“Thank you again for all of your kindness.” She said, though still wondering what exactly Fish wanted in return. Perhaps she thought that the best way to get information from her was to be kind to her. She wouldn’t be the first person to try to manipulate her. And Tom did tell her to be careful.

“You still seem surprised by that,” Fish observed, finishing her glass of wine. “May I ask why?”

“You just seem like someone who wouldn’t want anything to do with me …” She said with a shrug. “I mean no offence when I say that. It’s just you’re rich, and powerful and I’m … Well, I’m not.”

“I wasn’t always, you know,” Fish said, a slight gleam of amusement in her eyes. “You make it sound as if ‘rich and powerful’ were a personality trait. Even if it were, why would I want to spend all my time surrounded by people exactly like myself? That sounds unbearably boring. You’re genuine and intelligent. The first is rare enough on its own, but the two combined?” Fish shook her head. “You have no idea how refreshing your company is.”

“It’s hard not to imagine ‘rich and powerful’ as a personality trait.” She said with a slight shrug as their desserts came.

“I suppose in my case, it might be,” Fish admitted, picking up a spoon, before she added, gesturing with the spoon for emphasis, “But not for the reasons you would think. I’ve survived without it before, and I can again if need be, but I was never content that way. It’s more that I’m drawn to the pursuit of power, than anything else.”

Kristen smiled slightly. “Here you are running to grasp at wealth and power, and here I am running from it.” She said shaking her head.

“Yes, I was curious about that,” Fish said with a small smile. “That ski resort trip you talked about from your childhood … It sounds as if your family had money, but I hadn’t heard of the Kringles.” And Fish knew about every wealthy and influential family in the greater Gotham area. “Or would you prefer not to talk about that?”

“I’d rather not talk about my parents. I’m not associated with them anymore.” She said. “By choice, not by necessity.”

Fish nodded with a certain degree of understanding, as well as a certain degree of acceptance for what she could not yet understand. Another mystery for another day. For all Kristen’s straightforwardness, there was a good deal that she chose to keep hidden. Yet Fish couldn’t shake the certainty that, even once all the mystery was gone, all the secrets revealed, Kristen would remain more intriguing than ever. “You prefer to make your own way, I take it?” Fish inquired.

“More like I want to live my own life. I was sick of being told what to do, where to go, how to act, how to sit, how to eat, how to breath, how to exist … I just … I wanted my freedom. I always felt like I was trapped, my entire life growing up I never had any friends, I never got to go to school, I was tutored from dawn till dusk, on weekends I had to take etiquette or go for clothes fittings and … I hated it. I hated never being able to be a kid and things I wanted to do … I could never do them.”

“No, I doubt that kind of life would suit you at all,” Fish agreed. “I wouldn’t much care for it either.” Another piece of who Kristen was seemed to fit into place in Fish’s mind, forming a clearer picture of this woman she was slowly getting to know.

Kristen nodded, unable to help feeling like she’d given out a bit too much information. Tom did say to be careful what she said. Could she maybe use this somehow? Find out who her parents were? For what cause she didn’t know but, there had to be something. “This dessert is amazing.” Kristen said, changing the subject back to the food.

“It is,” Fish said with a small smile. “And you really don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”

“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.” Kristen said with a laugh. “You don’t either.”

“Which does leave us at something of an impasse,” Fish agreed. She was quiet for a moment, picking at her dessert before she looked up at Kristen and asked. “You will check in with me, won’t you? You’re not just saying that?”

“I will.” Kristen said quietly. “If I didn’t, I’m sure you know where to find me. You have that dog of yours that’s apparently good at sniffing people out.” She said sounding a bit annoyed.

“I would prefer not to be that invasive,” Fish said candidly, her eyes fixed on Kristen’s, appearing surprisingly earnest. “You’ll forgive me for being so insistent, but … I’m worried about you.” She felt uncomfortably vulnerable admitting it, and she wasn’t sure why.

“Prefer not to be that invasive?” She asked. “Forgive me, but you had your lackey find everything he could on me after we first met. How was that not invasive?”

“Nothing that wasn’t public record,” Fish said, a little surprised at Kristen’s reaction. “I’m sorry if that upset you, but it’s a very common practice in this business. I forget sometimes that the rest of the world doesn’t necessarily operate in the way that I’m used to.”

“How much did he find out about me?” She asked. “He never told me when I confronted him about it.”

“Where you work,” Fish said, responding honestly, determining that it was a reasonable enough question. “What you do, at work, any known associations at work, and a complete lack of known associations with either my allies or my enemies. If I had to guess, I would say he just talked to a few of your coworkers.”

“And what else did he find out?” Kristen asked.

“Well, your name, naturally,” Fish said. “I believe your usual work schedule, and …” she hesitated, before she added. “I did say known associates at work.”

Kristen licked her lips, placing her fork down on her half finished plate. “I um …” She paused, not really sure how to react to all of this. “I appreciate dinner but, I think I should get going.”

“I’m sorry,” Fish said. “I was out of line. It … was before I knew what a private person you are. I see now that it was an invasion.” She gestured to the waiter, handing him her credit card. “I’ll take you home.”

“Most people are private.” Kristen said. “How would you feel if I had a higher station than you did, and I had some creepy guy that worked for me investigate your personal information?” She said, not even thinking about who she was talking to, let alone the possible repercussions.

“Honestly, I expect it,” Fish said bluntly. “Which is why I make my personal information so difficult to acquire. But when you put it like that … it’s possible that I’ve developed a very warped notion of what’s normal. It … was wrong of me to do that to a civilian, who never agreed to be part of this world. Have you resented me for it all this time?”

“I’ve been questioning it. It’s making me a bit suspicious if anything.” Kristen said. “It make me wonder what else will you look into? And what’s stopping you from doing it again?”

“I don’t want to ‘look into’ you, I want to get to know you,” Fish said, those piercing eyes looking back at her across the table. “And to stop me from doing anything you don’t like, all it will take is a word from you.”

“Well, I’m fairly certain my word doesn’t mean much around this city.” She said standing from the table. “Thank you again for dinner, but I think I’m going to go home now.”

“I thought you needed a ride,” Fish said, taking her card back from the waiter and quickly signing the receipt. “Though if you would prefer not to be in a car with me right now, my driver can take you back and I’ll wait here for him to return.” She stood, and though she seemed to take things in stride, her eyes did look a little disappointed.

Kristen hesitated. She really didn’t want to be rude after Fish had been so kind to her. “No, that’s … You don’t have to do that. I can get a ride with you.”

“Are you sure?” Fish asked with a searching look. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine. Really. I appreciate the ride, anyway. You could have always made me walk.” She said with a shrug. It was only about seven blocks away from her house at this point.

“For what?” Fish said, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Speaking your mind? That seems unnecessary.”

“Well, sometimes my mouth wanders off on me.” Kristen said with a shrug. “Perhaps I was overreacting a bit.”

“I kind of like that you tell me what you really think, though,” Fish said, leading the way out. “A lot of people are afraid to for some reason. I can’t imagine why.”

Kristen laughed slightly as they walked onto the street, wrapping her arms around herself at the slight chill. “It’s getting cold out.” Kristen said, realizing that she’d left her coat at Tom’s.

Without hesitation, Fish slipped out of her coat, draping it over Kristen’s shoulders as the car pulled up. “Better?” she asked.

Kristen jumped slightly as Fish put the coat around her. “Oh, you …” She blushed again, glancing up at her. “You don’t have to do that.” She said taking the coat off and handing it back to her.

Fish shook her head. “I insist,” she said with an amused smile, opening the door for her. “I don’t mind the chill much, as you might have guessed from the way I dress.”

Kristen hesitated. “Oh, Thank you.” She said slowly, unsure really how to react.

“It’s a good look on you,” Fish said, taking in the effect with a keen eye as she settled into the car next to her. It was even a pretty good fit, and a flattering cut on her.

“Thank you.” Kristen said, sitting back in the seat of the car.

“Anytime,” Fish said, as the driver started on his way. “You’ve had an eventful enough evening without catching a cold on top of everything else.”

The ride home was quiet, though not uncomfortable as Kristen had expected it to be. Despite knowing that Fish had her errand boy look in on her, she didn’t feel uneasy about it anymore. The fact that Fish hadn’t tried to hide it from her somewhat put her mind at ease. When they reached the front of the house, Kristen pulled the jacket off and passed it back to Fish.

“Thank you so much for … Well, for everything.” She said, at this point tonight there were too many to list.

“Don’t mention it,” Fish said, smiling. “You should keep that jacket, though,” she decided. “It looks better on you.”

Kristen looked up at her before glancing down at the jacket. She sincerely doubted she looked better in the jacket. “Are you sure?” She asked, the jacket didn’t look cheap. It certainly wasn’t something she’d be able to afford herself.

“Absolutely,” Fish said in a tone of complete certainty. “The colour brings out your eyes.” Besides, she rather liked the idea of giving Kristen something nice to wear, and it seemed unlikely that Kristen would agree to go shopping with her anytime soon.

“You’ve already done so much for me, I can’t accept this.” Kristen said quietly.

“Why not?” asked Fish. “It’s not as flashy as most of my outfits are, so no one will know where you got it.” Her eyes met Kristen’s, and she asked, “Or is it because you think you’ll owe me something?”

“It’s because it looks expensive. I couldn’t possibly take this …” She said.

“I insist,” Fish said. “It looks too perfect on you. It clearly belongs with you.”

“Well, thank you.” She said, wishing she didn’t feel her cheeks burning again. She opened the car door as a few droplets of water started to fall onto the sidewalk. “I’ll see you around.”

Fish looked back at Kristen. There was that endearing blush again. Fish couldn’t help feeling like something else should happen here. About how, under other circumstances, now would be a charming time to sweep dear Kristen into her arms and kiss her, right as the rain was starting to fall … But as things were, that would go over like a truckload of cement. So she just nodded and said, “See you.” She looked up at Kristen and added, “You will text me, won’t you? To let me know you’re okay?”

“Of course …” Kristen said with a soft smile, waving slightly before closing the door and heading up to her apartment.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the massive difference in lengths of chapters. I'm trying to split them up by scene, and some are just much longer than others, and some need to be split in half they're too long. For example, the last dinner was meant to be 1 chapter but was far too long. Anyway I hope you all are enjoying, and please leave kudos and comments, we love them all! It's like fuel to us!

Kristen closed the door of her apartment behind her, grateful that Miss. Finkle down the hall was awake and was able to give her her spare key. She sighed as she leaned against the front door, closing her eyes. Tonight had been a mess. From her fight with Tom, if you want to call that a fight, to her dinner with Fish … The entire thing had been an emotional roller coaster.

She tossed her key onto her kitchen counter, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and went into her bedroom to get changed. As she took off the jacket she caught a distinct smell of vanilla. A scent she liked, but would never personally wear. It smelled like Miss. Mooney.

She took it off, draping it over the chair in her room before she changed into her pajamas. She crawled into bed, her pillowcase and blanket smelling like her, and a bit like Tom and she couldn’t help but hate that at the moment. She got out of bed, pulled the sheets and the pillow cases off and tossed them into the laundry basket, before changing them into fresh clean ones. She crawled into bed, feeling much better, but she couldn’t help but feel like something was missing …

Like something was just off. Was it that she was alone, when she’d still be at Tom’s? He had invited her back over again, had apologized as always … But no, she didn’t want to go back there. She didn’t want to see him right now … But there was something distinctly missing. She wanted something and it nagged at her until she turned over in bed, pulling the blanket closer to her chin and she caught sight of the jacket hanging over the chair.

Like the last night they’d had dinner, she couldn’t help but think of Fish … She filtered into her mind uninvited, and she felt guilty about it. She never thought about Tom like this. With Tom she just felt fear, and often hatred. Sometimes the thought of him even made her sick. She hated that she was like this. She loved Tom! She did … She was just a bad girlfriend. And it didn’t help matters anyway that she was now halfway across the room, heading for the chair. No … She couldn’t do that again.

Not again. She was loyal to Tom. She’d promised him … And even though it was just thinking about it … She felt dirty. She moved to go back to the bed and froze in place. She just felt so lonely and yet … Tom’s wasn’t an option. And Fish wasn’t either.

Still, what Tom didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. She went back to the chair and picked up her jacket. It was soft, and rather comfortable as she slipped it on properly. She crawled back into her bed, her face rubbing over the soft collar of the jacket, that scent of vanilla wafting again.

She closed her eyes, pushing Tom out of her mind as she lowered her hand into her pajama pants. This time Fish didn’t need to invade her mind … She allowed it. She pushed her feelings of guilt to the side, focusing on her fingers playing over her clit before delving inside of her, her hips moving against her hand, breathing in Fish’s scent and imagining it was her fingers inside of her. It wasn’t long before she came, clenching around her fingers as she moaned, biting her lip. Once she’d calmed she relaxed against the bed, wiping her hand off on the sheet too tired and spent to get up.

After tonight, she promised, this was the last time. After tonight, she wouldn’t do this again. She was with Tom, and that’s how it was going to be.


	13. Chapter 13

Tom walked confidently into the records annex, spotting Kristen in front of a filing cabinet, her fingers playing over the files. “Kristen.” He said with a broad grin. “Hey baby.” 

At the mere sound of his voice, some nameless warning alarm jangled through her every nerve, her spine abruptly straightening to attention, every muscle involuntarily tense. Even as that visceral reaction shot through her, a wave of guilt followed. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way. She loved him. What was wrong with her?

“Hi,” she said, smiling up at him, still unable to undo the tension that wound through her.

“Hey.” he said coming up to her, his hands going to her sides as he leaned down and kissed her. “Do you want to come over tonight?” He asked. “I want to make it up to you for last night.” 

An instant dread flared up at the thought of going over. But that was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To make things better? And he was willing to make it up to her. The least she could do was try.

“Sure,” she said, hating herself a little for how easily she gave in, even as she felt guilty for wanting not to. “We can go straight after work.”

“Okay.” Tom said with a broad grin. “So you forgive me then?” He asked, his hand on the filing cabinet behind her, his other lightly tracing her jaw. “I love you, you know that?” He asked, leaning forward and kissing her gently. 

Some of her tension receded with that gentle kiss, though it never fully faded. “Of course,” she said, willing it to be true. He had never said he loved her at work before. That counted for something. “I love you too.”

“I’ll see you later then.” He said his hand running down her arm as the door to the records annex popped open. 

“Hey Riddle man!” Tom said with a wide grin as he walked past him, slapping him hard on his back jostling him forward. 

Ed pushed his glasses back up, not making eye contact with either. “Um, hello, Officer Dougherty.” He said going over to Kristen and placing a file down on the cabinet where it belonged, Tom now gone from the room. Without saying anything he turned to leave. 

“Mr. Nygma …” Kristen said quietly, feeling a stab of guilt at the way he cringed away from her with every movement. “Wait.”

Edward paused, shuffling slightly as if he didn’t know if he wanted to wait as she requested or keep walking. In the end he stilled and turned full to face her, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. “The file is fully there, in order as you had it … I won’t disturb your things.” He said gesturing to them awkwardly before turning to leave again. 

“I’m sorry,” Kristen said, watching him though his back was to her. “I talked to Lee. I … know you didn’t mean to make me uncomfortable. And I appreciate the effort to stop, but … you don’t have to be afraid to talk to me.”

Edward paused again and glanced back at her. “I’m not afraid.” He said nervously, his hands wringing together. “I just don’t want to do or say something to make you uncomfortable. That was not my intention. So, if you’ll excuse me.” He said going to leave again. 

“From now on, if I’m uncomfortable, I’ll just let you know,” Kristen said quickly. “Then and there, so you don’t have to worry about it. And I won’t be angry, since I know that’s not your intention now. Would … would that be better?”

Ed paused again. “It’s fine … I’ll just … Mind my own work.” He said nervously. 

“If that’s easier for you,” Kristen said, nodding. “But I’m not opposed to becoming friends.”

“Fr … Miss. Kringle with all due respect, just a few days ago you couldn’t even handle me being around you, forgive my skepticism that you actually want to be my friend.” He said sounding more hurt by the offer than anything. “Please don’t make jokes …” He said before turning to leave again. 

“Mr. Nygma, please,” Kristen said, following after him. “I’m not joking, or trying to make fun of you. I only had trouble being around you because you were doing things that made me uncomfortable, and you’re actively trying not to do that now. I’m serious. Why don’t you come hang out with me and Tom sometime?”

“You and … Officer Dougherty?” He asked. “Why?” 

“Because … that’s how you become friends with someone,” Kristen said lamely, realizing the sudden invitation probably struck him as weird and confusing. “You hang out with them and get to know them.”

“I see … And … Officer Dougherty is okay with this?” He asked, still sounding quite skeptical. He couldn’t help but wonder what prank he’d be walking into. 

“I’ll have to ask him first,” Kristen admitted. “If you’re not up for it, I understand, but … Just think about it, okay?”

Edward was silent for a moment, his hands still tight, his nails digging into his palms as he nodded. “Yes … I’ll think about it.” He said with a tight lipped smile before finally managing to leave the room without her stopping him. 

“Right,” Kristen sighed once the door swung closed behind him. She wouldn’t blame Nygma if he didn’t want to take her up on that offer. Tom could be kind of tactless around him, and Nygma was probably embarrassed around her now. But he had a difficult enough time making friends that it could be worth the effort to try.


	14. Chapter 14

Kristen skipped up the stairs where Tom was talking to a couple of his work buddies. “Hey, Tom.” She said, trying to not interrupt. He turned to her, looking slightly amused. She rarely approached him at work. Something about ‘professionalism’ or something. “Can we talk for a moment?” 

“Sure, babe,” Tom said, excusing himself from the guys and following her back into the records annex. Though she was usually such a prude about professionalism, part of him hoped that she wanted to do more than talk. She was always so eager after a fight.

Once they were alone she wrung her hands nervously. “You remember how I was talking to you about Mr. Nygma … Were you serious about inviting him over some time?” She asked. “I talked to him today and apologized. I want to get on good terms with him, he’s still afraid of me … I thought maybe you could help.” She said knowing he would expect something after for helping her, but that would be fine. 

“Yeah?” Tom grinned down at her. “And how can I help? Maybe invite the Riddle Man over for a couple beers,” he said, amused at the thought. Nygma was probably terrible at holding his alcohol, and would likely be a hilarious drunk. “Try not to beat him too badly at pool?”

“I don’t think he drinks, but maybe if you invited him over for pool? You haven’t played in a while.” She said, meekly. “Maybe if you invited him over, he’d be less nervous? I’m not a bad person, I want him to know he doesn’t have to be afraid of me. Even if I just watch you two play pool.” 

“Yeah, that could be fun,” Tom admitted. “He could definitely stand to lighten up. I’ll ask him. Is tonight alright?”

Kristen nodded. “Yes, I’m off at four, I wouldn’t mind waiting around for you two.” 

“I’ll see you then, babe,” Tom said, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek. “Then, afterward, you and I have some making up to do.”

Kristen smiled slightly and nodded. “Yes … We do.” She said pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, jumping as he smacked her ass, ruining the mood as usual. But that’s what guys did right? She should have seen it coming. “I should get back to work.” She said blushing as she bit her lip and practically scampered back to the Records Annex. 

Tom went off in search of Edward, locating the jumpy little man in the hallway near the lab. “Hey there, Riddle Man,” Tom grinned broadly. 

Edward jumped, dropping his clipboard as he looked back at him. “Officer Dougherty!” He said startled as he pushed his glasses back up his nose with the side of his index finger, his other fingers splayed out awkwardly before he put his hand back down. “How can I help you?” He asked picking up his clipboard, a few papers falling out and he picked those up too. 

“No need to be so jumpy,” Dougherty said with an amused smile, patting Edward a little too hard on the back. “I was just wondering if you wanted to come over, shoot some pool, maybe have a few beers.”

“Miss. Kringle requested you ask me, didn’t she?” Edward asked. 

“She was interested in hanging out, but it was my idea,” Tom asserted. “So, are you free after work?

“Yes, no … Uh … No.” Edward said shaking his head and pushing up his glasses again, more out of nervousness. “I uh … I shouldn’t.” He said shaking his head and licking his lips, clinging onto his clipboard a bit harder than he probably should. 

“Aw, why not?” Tom asked pleasantly enough. “It’s not like I’m talking about a night of wild partying. Live a little.”

“I just …” Edward looked really nervous now, alone in the hall with Tom. “I should. I uh … I have to get these files to Officer Franks …” He said moving to go around Tom. 

“Oh, come on,” Tom said. “It’ll be fun. I’m starting to think you don’t like me much.”

“No, I don’t …” Edward said before flinching. “Uh … I don’t … not like you.” He said sounding a bit confused by his own statement. 

“Great, it’s settled then. You can get a ride with us after work. Crash on the couch tonight, wouldn’t want you drinking and driving eh? I’d have to give you a ticket.” He said before slapping him on the arm and walking away leaving Ed standing there flustered, unsure of how to get out of it. 

“Hey Ed.” Ed jumped again as Jim came down the hall from the other direction. 

“Yes?” Ed asked started. “Uh, sorry, how can I help you Detective?” 


	15. Chapter 15

Kristen followed Tom up the stairs, Ed nervously walking up the stairs behind her at a respectful distance, though probably a bit farther than necessary. She had no idea how this night would go, and it made her a little nervous. She knew Tom would be drinking tonight, and she knew to some degree Mr. Nygma still creeped her out a little. Not as badly as before but … She didn’t know if he drank but If he started drinking too … She wasn’t sure how this would go tonight. 

Then again, with someone else there, perhaps Tom might behave himself. 

“So, Nygma,” Tom asked as they entered the apartment. “Do you play pool much?”

“No, I know the concept and the rules,” As he’d read up on the game while he was waiting awkwardly with Kristen, for Tom to get back from his last case. “But I’ve never actually played. It seems simple enough.” 

“I’m sure you’ll pick it up quickly enough,” Kristen said kindly. She just hoped Tom would be polite enough not to get too competitive before Edward got the chance to learn. 

“Yeah, you’ll be fine Riddle Man.” Tom said as he unlocked his apartment door and stepped inside, tossing his keys onto the counter. “I was thinking we could order in some pizza, how does that sound?” 

“Pizza sounds fine,” Edward said nervously, his demeanor even stiffer than usual. Kristen was starting to wonder if Tom had just pressured Edward until he felt obligated to be here. He did have a way of doing that. “And my name is Edward.” He said as Tom seemed to ignore it. 

“You can use the brown cue, the black ones mine.” Tom said as he started racking the balls as Edward took his jacket off. Kristen took it from him. 

“I can hang that up for you.” She said, already having hung hers up. Ed looked reluctant, before he handed her his jacket. 

“Thank you.” He said before turning to Tom and going to pick up the cue he had indicated, while Kristen had a seat nearby.

“Hey Babe, want to order those pizzas?” Tom asked. 

“Sure,” Kristen said agreeably. “What kind do you want?” she asked.

“I’ll have a meat lovers,” Tom said grabbing his black pool cue. “You two get what you like.” 

Kristen nodded, looking up at Edward, who was eying the pool table with what she could only call a look of intense calculation. “What’s your preference, Mr. Nygma?” she asked him.

“I’m not picky.” Edward said. “Anything is fine.” He said, his hands slightly shaking with nerves as he held his cue. 

“Alright,” Kristen said, dialing to place the order. She felt bad about how nervous he seemed. She hoped that would improve as the evening progressed. But if he was this uncomfortable the whole time, she might owe him another apology tomorrow.

“Come on Riddle man, you can break.” He said pointing to the table. “To break you just have to-“ 

“I know how to break, thank you.” He said surprising them both that he cut Tom off. 

“Well alright then. Have at it.” Tom said as Ed went to the proper side of the table. He stood there staring at it, his eyes wandering over the cluster of pool balls, the pockets, and the bumpers. “It’s not going to break itself you know.” Tom teased. 

“I’m fully aware of that, Officer Dougherty.” He didn’t expect the man actually used his head much, let alone in a game that could be predicted with simple mathematical angles. Ed stopped shaking as he bent over, lining up his first shot. He hit the cue ball firmly, the ball hitting the others with a swift crack and surging seconds one ball sunk, then a second, then a third, and a fourth, some of the balls still moving before finally stilling. 

Kristen raised an eyebrow as she finished on the phone, an amused smile at the look on Tom’s face. “Are you sure you haven’t played before?” she asked.

“Usually people only lie about that when they’re betting,” Tom said. “Beginners luck.” Tom said noting that Ed sunk three solids and one stripe. “Your move again Riddle man … Next shot determines your colour if you sink one.” 

Ed glanced up at him a moment and ignored the man’s instruction as he went and hit the solid yellow ball, knocking it into the purple. They bounced off each other, the yellow one going into a pocket, the purple one bouncing off another striped ball before spinning into another pocket, leaving him with three balls left. 

“Alright, no one's that good their first time. You are lying.” Tom said though he sounded amused. This winning streak couldn’t last forever. 

“I’m not.” Ed said pushing up his glasses which had slid down his nose. “It’s actually just simple mathematical angles and determining the proper velocity to direct-“

“Okay, Okay- just shoot.” He said waving his hand and Ed looked up at him as if startled. 

“Right.” He said looking down at the table. Two of his balls were blocked by stripes and the 8 ball blocked his last ball. 

“Hey babe, want to get us some drinks?” Tom asked and Ed looked back up at him again, but said nothing. 

“Sure,” Kristen said, getting up again, not sure what to make of that look from Edward. “Is beer alright, Mr. Nygma?”

“Water is fine.” He said banking the ball around the eight and hitting his, though it missed the pocket and hit another stripe. 

“Who drinks water while they’re playing pool?” Tom shook his head, laughing, though he looked a little triumphant now that Edward had finally missed. “If you’re going to play like a man, you gotta drink like one.”

Kristen, however, went into the kitchen, intent on carrying out both drink requests as they had asked for. If Edward felt more comfortable drinking water, she didn’t see why they needed to make a big deal out of it. He was far enough out of his comfort zone as it was.

When Kristen came back from the kitchen Tom took his beer, and the glass of water. “Seriously?” He asked, pouring it into a nearby plant. “Come on Riddle man … What do you drink?” He asked. “There’s no water tonight. Besides if you keep shooting the way you are, the booze may give me a chance. Now come on.” 

“We have bourbon,” Kristen suggested lamely, with an apologetic look up at Edward. If he wasn’t a beer-drinker, that might placate him. But if he wanted to avoid alcohol, than that was moving in the wrong direction.

“Bourbon, Whiskey, Bailey’s, Brandy, take your pick.” Tom said lining up a shot and sinking a ball. 

“Uh … Bourbon, I guess.” Ed said nervously. 

Kristen nodded, before turning on her heel and striding back to the kitchen, where she poured him a modest-sized glass of bourbon, since Edward seemed less than enthusiastic about the idea. And anyway, he may have turned out to be harmless so far, but she didn’t know what he was like drunk. She returned, handing his glass over to him.

“Thank you.” Edward said kindly, taking the glass from her. He took a sip of the drink, not even reacting to the burning sensation of the alcohol as he watched Tom’s next shot, watching Kristen in his peripheral vision.

Kristen watched as Tom managed to sink a couple, before he barely missed the corner pocket, and had to step back, letting Edward take his next turn. “Let’s see if that beginner’s luck still holds out, huh?” Tom said taking another swig of his beer. 

Edward placed his glass on a nearby table before assessing the game before him. He took his last two shots which sank all three of his balls before assessing the game again, trying to figure out how to sink the eight ball. 

“Apparently long enough,” Kristen said, unable to help the look of amusement on her face as she watched. “At this rate, Mr. Nygma, you might as well go pro.”

“I doubt that, they’re far better than I am.” He said, still staring at the table. “Also, I have no interest in playing pool professionally.” He said making Tom scoff as he walked around the table and lining up the shot, aiming the white ball away from the black. 

“You know, the aim here is to hit the black ball now.” Tom said and Ed ignored him, calling his pocket, which seemed like a next to impossible shot. Still, the eight ball was practically surrounded by Tom’s balls and Ed had very few options. 

“That may be easier said than done at this point,” Kristen observed. Yet Edward didn’t seem overly perturbed by the odds. Then again, it was a game he didn’t seem to care about. 

Edward hit the cue ball, the ball bouncing hard off the bumper and hitting another bumper, hitting the black ball which bounced off of Tom’s purple striped ball, and shot directly into the pocket he’d called. 

“Or not,” Kristen said, impressed. 

“Okay, seriously,” said Tom. “You need to drink more.”

“Alternatively, you could drink less and focus on improving your game.” Edward said with a shrug. 

“Hey, you’re the one who chose bourbon instead of something lighter,” Tom pointed out. 

“You’re drinking beer though. And I just won, so your argument is flawed.” Edward said, going to rack the balls on the one end of the table. 

“But if you actually drank some, I might win the next one,” Tom laughed, shaking his head. “I didn’t think you had it in you, Riddle Man. You take this unexpected fluke talent to some of the bars around here and you could make some good money … As long as nobody gets mad at you and beats you up for winning too much, that is.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen here,” Kristen said calmly. From Tom’s tone, she could tell he was joking, but she didn’t want Edward to feel uncomfortable.

“I don’t know,” Tom said aiming to break. “A few more drinks and it might.” He said making Ed look up at him, pushing his glasses up his nose again. 

“He’s joking,” Kristen clarified, looking over at Edward. Though at the moment, she didn’t find it terribly funny.

“Maybe.” Tom said finally shooting and not sinking a single ball. “Come on Riddle Man, drink up and shoot!” He said pointing to Ed’s glass which was still mostly full. “I thought you said you like bourbon.” 

“Yes,” Edward said haltingly, as if evaluating Tom’s demeanor. Frankly, Kristen couldn’t blame him for not wanting to risk impairment around people he wasn’t overly familiar with. “But I prefer to drink bourbon slowly. It’s inadvisable to drink it as quickly as a beer, since the alcohol content is so much higher.”

“Just shut up and shoot.” Tom said shaking his head and sipping his beer. 

Edward nodded awkwardly, once again examining the pool table so intently that Kristen could practically see the calculations whirring through his head before taking his shot. No balls sunk from the shot and Tom rolled his eyes. 

“Well you don’t have to be an ass about it.” He said taking his own shot and sinking two balls, before lining up his next. “So Riddle man-“ 

“Edward.” He corrected. 

“Yeah. What made you decide to go into forensics?” Tom asked making his shot and narrowly missing. 

“Well,” Edward said, thinking it over. “It always gives you new information to work with, so it’s never boring. And you never know what knowledge might come in handy … It’s like a puzzle, really.”

“I could see that,” Kristen said with a nod of acknowledgement. She supposed, then, that what had previously seemed like morbid fascination was just … regular fascination. The same type that Edward seemingly applied to just about everything else he encountered.

“Never boring? You want never boring you should have become an officer.” Tom said with a chuckle. “Then again, I can’t see you doing much running.” He said and Ed looked at him over his glasses, which once again had slid down his nose. 

“I can run just fine, thank you.” He said, not adding that he’d had much practice all through school, running the full twelve blocks home before the bullies got away from their lockers. 

“Sure,” Tom chuckled, patting Edward too hard on the back again. “Straight to the crossword puzzle section, right?”

“Well, both of your jobs certainly beat mine for excitement,” Kristen said pleasantly, trying to throw Edward a lifeline. Not that she minded working with interesting cases from a safe distance. But there were days when the routine in the records annex could get dull, or hectic and stressful without feeling particularly meaningful.

“Aw babe, I thought you love your job.” Tom said looking up as there was a knock on the door. He made a show of patting his pockets and sighed. “Hey hun, I think I left my wallet at work. Would you mind grabbing that?” 

“Oh,” Kristen said, though she nodded, standing up to go look for her purse. “Yeah, hang on, I’ve got it.”

Edward looked at Kristen before shaking his head. “It’s okay. I’ll get it.” He said placing his pool cue against the wall. It wasn’t fair that Tom did that to her, he could see the outline of his wallet in his back pocket. She had to know he was lying. He’d planned this knowing she wouldn’t say no. 

“Naw, Riddle man,  you’re our guest, she’s got it.” Tom said taking his next shot. 

“It’s fine, really.” Edward said going to the door. 

“Mr. Nygma, really,” Kristen said, embarrassed as she located her purse. She knew what Tom was doing, and she didn’t want to get into a fight over it, especially in front of Edward, but it wasn’t fair for Edward to end up paying. “It’s alright, I have it covered.”

“It’s fine.” Edward said, already having his wallet out of his pocket. “I insist.” He said pulling the door open as Tom was now ignoring the conversation. So long as he didn’t have to pay, what did it matter to him? 

“Thank you,” Kristen said sincerely. “We really appreciate it. I can cover the tip, though, okay?”

Edward nodded as he handed the cash to the pizza guy and getting his change back, allowing Kristen to give him a tip. He carried the three extra large pizza’s into the dining room and placed them on the table. 

“Hey Riddle man, you going to just hang out with the lady, or are we going to finish our game?” Tom asked. 

“It’s alright,” Kristen told him pleasantly, though she couldn’t help feeling weird for some reason. Somehow, the normal dynamic between her and Tom felt off with someone else observing it. “I can set this up. You go finish your game.”

“Are you sure?” Edward asked. “The game can wait, I can help.” 

“It’s pizza, Mr. Nygma,” she assured him. “There’s not much to do but set out plates.” And Tom, as much as she loved him, was not the most patient man. Oddly, her mind jumped back to dinner last night, and how unexpectedly patient Fish had been. She brushed that thought away like an interloping spider’s web. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine Fish Mooney doing anything so comfortably casual as splitting a delivery pizza. 

“Okay, if you need any help though, just-” 

“Riddle man, come on.” Tom said and Ed looked back at him with a slight shake of his head. Edward hesitated a moment, as if he was fighting to figure something out, or gain the courage to do something.

“I know it’s not my place to say …” Ed said quietly so that Tom couldn’t hear, his nails digging into his palms. “But you can do so much better than him.” He said before heading over to the pool table and making his shot. 

His words hit her with an unexpected jolt, and she visibly stiffened, looking up at him before she tore her eyes away, saying nothing, and went to set out plates and napkins, suddenly dismayed that she didn’t have more to do in the kitchen, to busy herself until her disparate troubled thoughts were gathered. He was wrong, she told herself. And anyway, if history was any indicator, she could not, in fact, do better. Yet Edward Nygma was the second person to tell her so within a 48 hour period. That didn’t have to mean anything, though, insisted a frantic, desperate voice at the forefront of her mind. Fish and Edward were both far from unbiased on the subject. He had to be trying to get between her and Tom, he did like her after all … That had to be it. And Fish … Well … They  had the same motives. 

She watched quietly as Tom and Ed finished their next game, Ed once again beating him while Tom still had five balls still sitting on the table. 

“You’re cheating. Or you lied and played before … Either way, you’re cheating.” Tom said walking past Kristen and smacking her ass as he walked by towards the pizza. 

Kristen’s face coloured, a little embarrassed that Tom would do that in front of other people, but she didn’t say anything.

“I’m not certain how one would go about cheating at pool,” Edward said, nervously pushing up his glasses, before frowning in thought. “At least, not without prior unsupervised access to the table or the balls, anyway.”

“There’s plenty of places around town you could play pool at, Riddle man.” He said taking a plate and four slices of pizza before sitting down at the table. “Even if you don’t go to bars, there’s a few pool halls. They generally serve alcohol, but the tables are its main attraction.” 

“I suppose so,” Edward acknowledged, going over to get some pizza. “But I still see no reason for cheating.”

“Sure.” Tom said sitting back and eating his pizza as Ed took two slices and handed Kristen a plate realizing he was in her way. 

“Thanks,” Kristen said, taking the plate and dishing out a couple of slices of pizza for herself before going over to join the guys.

“Hey Riddle man.” Tom said, and Edward didn’t bother correcting him this time. “Do you work tomorrow?” 

“I don’t.” Edward said confused, and was even more confused when a smile came to Tom’s face. 

“Well, if you’d like to stay late,” He said, pausing strangely, making Kristen look at him wondering what he was planning. “Or at least, later … I have a video game that I’m stuck on, if you’d care to take a crack at it. I heard you like video games.” 

“I can’t be out too late …” Edward said tentatively, with a nervousness that Kristen could almost physically feel in the air. But there was a slight gleam of interest in his eyes as well. “What game is it, though?”

“Shadow of the Colossus.” Tom said. “It’s a-” 

“Puzzle platformer. I know.” Edward said, very familiar with the game. “I could do a speedrun of the entire game in just under four hours. Though to perfect the game it’s closer to ten to fifteen depending on how well the game cooperates. How many bosses have you beaten?”

Kristen stared at Edward, a small smile on her face as she thought of just how many times Tom had cursed loudly at that game, throwing the controller at least once. “The first three, right?” she said, looking over at Tom.

“Three? I beat the first one. I can’t even find the second!” Tom said annoyed. 

“The first one? That’s basically the training boss.” Ed said, clearly loosening up slightly from the alcohol. 

“Hey, the controller sticks, alright?” Tom said defensively, while Kristen withheld any further comment for now.

“Sure, I’ll play a few bosses for you.” Edward said with a shrug as he hate his pizza. 

“Is it as much fun if someone else beats the bosses, though?” Kristen asked. She supposed it could be entertaining in the same way as watching a playthrough video, but still not the same.

“Eh, I don’t care!” Tom said, picking a piece of burnt pepperoni off of his pizza. “I just want the trophies.” 

“We could do something else if you want.” Ed said to Kristen. “Something we’re all included in.” 

“You implying a threesome, Riddle man?” Tom asked just as Ed was taking a sip of his drink and made him choke on the liquid. 

“Tom!” Kristen shook her head disapprovingly, her face reddening in an instant, as she patted Edward’s back. “Are you trying to give the poor man a heart attack? He’s joking, Ed,” she reassured him. 

“I would certainly hope so.” He said his entire face lighting up red with embarrassment. “I was implying a multiplayer game.”

“What? You don’t think my girl is attractive enough for you?” Tom asked, sounding quite insulted. 

“I … Uh …” Edward didn’t know how to respond to that. 

“He’s still joking,” Kristen said helpfully. At least, she hoped he was. Knowing Tom, there was no right answer to that question. 

“No I’m not.” Tom said putting his pizza down on his plate. “You too good for her?” 

“Um, no …” Ed said awkwardly. 

“So you do want her then.” Tom asked an eyebrow raised. 

“Tom, stop giving him a hard time.” Kristen said. “You’re backing him into a corner and not accepting either of his answers. You’re getting pissed if he says yes, you’re getting pissed if he says no. What do you want him to say?” She asked suddenly rather defensive. She brought Ed here so that she could try to be his friend, not make things worse. 

“Calm down, babe,” Tom said with a sudden chuckle that didn’t quite feel genuine. “I’m just having fun messing with him, it’s a guy thing. You’re just overreacting.”

“Maybe … Maybe I should go.” Ed said, placing his glass down on the table. 

“Don’t be like that, Riddle Man,” Tom said. “Stay and show us your gaming skills. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“It’s okay,” Kristen told Ed, with an uneasy glance back at Tom. At this stage, he could be unpredictable, and he was already starting to be unpleasant. It was better to give Edward an out now than make things worse. Though she didn’t look forward to dealing with Tom alone afterward. “If you need to call it a night, we’ll understand.”

“Naw, come on.” Tom said picking up his plate and his drink and heading over to the living room. “Let’s see your skills.” 

“Only if you want to,” Kristen said quietly as Tom’s back was turned, trying to gage Edward’s comfort level from his expression … but then, she had always been terrible at reading Ed’s intentions.

“Sure … I guess a few won’t hurt.” He said with a shrug. If it got worse he could always leave at any time. Hopefully. 

Kristen nodded, unable to help feeling slightly grateful and relieved that she wouldn’t have to be alone with Tom again just yet. She followed them both into the living room, resolving to help everyone make the best of this evening.

Edward sat on one side of the couch, Kristen sitting in the middle, Tom sitting on the end. Ed played the next three bosses, finding each one easily (if not taking some time to get to the third one due the distance), and making quick work of them despite Tom’s back seat gaming. 

“Why are we hunting these things anyway? Like it’s a girl, move on bro.” Tom said shaking his head as he took another sip of his beer. “These things aren’t even doing anything! They’ve been sitting here long enough for shit to grow over them, they’ve become part of nature and we just show up to stab them with a toothpick.” 

“Essentially yes.” Ed said. “Though, he clearly loves her, why shouldn’t he fight to get her back?” 

“So are you the villain in this game?” Tom asked. 

“I suppose you could look at it that way.” Ed said triggering the cutscene intro of boss five. 

“Do any of these things have names? Or families? Or are they just random no named things that we’re wiping into extinction?” Tom asked taking another sip, clearly quiet inebriated at this point. 

“They have names, I don’t think they have families though.” Ed said with a slightly amused smile. 

“And you’re just running around killing them,” Kristen said, shaking her head in mock-disapproval, her smile matching Ed’s. “You absolute monster.”

“I bet you couldn’t name all of them, in order!” Tom said with a grin. “Bet ya twenty bucks!” 

“That’s a bet you’d lose very quickly.” Ed said confidently. 

“Careful, Tom,” Kristen said, amused. “Ed’s knowledge of random trivia is infamous.”

“Yeah? I bet he’s all talk. I’ll up that to $50!” He said pulling out his wallet and slamming it down on the coffee table. 

“Are you sure about that?” Ed asked. 

“You backing out?” Tom asked, his left eye squinting a bit, likely from the alcohol. 

“I haven’t even agreed yet, but yes, I’ll take you up on your bet, and I won’t even stop playing to answer.” He said as Tom scoffed. 

“Fine, lets see it then!” He said pulling out his phone and looking it up. “And I got the list here so don’t even think you can just cheat your way to think I don’t know the answer!” He said and Ed glanced at him a moment before he shook his head. 

“Should I take him up on this, or wait until he’s sober?” Ed asked Kristen as he finally got onto the platform in the water and pulled out his bow and arrow. 

“Don’t ask her, she isn’t the one making the bet you coward! Go!” Tom said, waving his phone. 

“Okay …” Edward said, shaking his head as he shot the colossus, activating the boss fight. “Valus, the Minotaur,  Quandratus the Taurus Major, Gaius the Earth Knight, Phaedra the Equus Prime, the one I’m playing now, is Avion the Delta Phoenix, Barba the Goliath, Hydrus the Sea Dragon, I hate that one.” Ed said with emphasis on the word ‘hate’, shaking his head as he got onto Avion’s wing, grabbing onto it’s patch of hair. “Kuromori the Wall Shadow, Basaran the Storm Echo, Dirge the Sand Tiger, Celosia the Flame Guardian, Pelagia the Great Basilisk, I never understood the name of that one since it looks nothing like a basilisk, Phalanx the Trail Drifter, Cenobia the Destruction Luster,” He said making Tom laugh. “Argus the Sentinel, and sixteen is Malus the Grand Gigas. And if I want to be cheeky, the character I’m playing as is named Wander, the girl is Mono, the horse is Agro and the entity that keeps talking to me is named Dormin.” 

“Well, colour me impressed.” Tom said picking up the $50 and handing it to him. Ed shook his head. 

“It’s fine, keep it.” He said nearly falling off off the colossi before catching himself and going for the glowing blue spot again. 

“No, no, a bet is a bet. Take it Riddle man!” He said and Ed glanced at him before taking it cautiously before going back to the game again. 

“It was certainly impressive,” Kristen said, greatly amused. “And all while multitasking.”

“This is multitasking? It’s just talking while I’m playing, I’d hardly call that multitasking.” Ed said confused.

“On this level, for most people it is,” Kristen said. 

Once Edward finished this boss he climbed back up to where he was supposed to be, whistled for Agro as Tom got off the couch for another drink. “You sure you’re not up for that threesome Riddle man?” He asked, stumbling into the wall as Ed and Kristen looked back at him. Edward looked down to see Kristen’s hand fisting in her skirt near her knee and he glanced back at Tom. 

“Actually, I think I might take off for the night. I have to be up early tomorrow.” He said pausing the game and turning it off, this time ignoring Tom’s ‘joke’. 

“That’s probably a good idea,” Kristen said, deeming this a good time to help Edward take his leave. She stood up to see him to the door. “Thank you for coming and hanging out with us,” she said, looking back at Edward seriously. “This was fun.” And she realized that, despite the awkwardness, it had been. 

“Would you um … Actually would you mind giving me a ride home? I wasn’t expecting to stay this late.” Edward said awkwardly as Tom fumbled in the kitchen. 

“Sure,” Kristen agreed, not nearly so uncomfortable with the prospect of a car ride alone with Nygma as she might once have been. He was alright, really. It would be a good opportunity to apologize to him for some of Tom’s behavior. And, as much as she hated to admit it, she was relieved not to be alone with Tom right now. With any luck, he would be dozing off by the time she got back. “I’ll be right back, okay Tom?” she said, picking up her purse.

“It’s late,” Ed said cautiously. “Don’t you work tomorrow?” 

“I do,” Kristen said, for a moment wondering what he was getting at, before it occurred to her. Was Ed trying to give  _ her  _ a way out? If so, he was showing a surprising amount of social awareness. She looked up at Tom, not wanting him to be angry. “And I think we’re all pretty tired.”

“What? You’re going home?” Tom asked, squinting as he almost fell against the counter, spilling his drink. “Aw crap!” He grumbled, reaching for the tea towel on the stove. “Naw, come on! Come on!” He said waving exaggeratedly. “Have another drink with me!” He said, trying to clean up the spill but only pushing it around the counter. 

“I would, Tom,” she said with a slight wince. “But I have an early morning tomorrow.” She kissed him on the cheek a little awkwardly. “Maybe tomorrow night, okay?”

“Why do you always leave.” He said taking her wrist and pulling her forward, pinning her between him and the counter before kissing her passionately, though sloppily. Edward looked away, his hand playing over the door frame before he moved over to the front entrance to put his shoes on. 

Though she tensed at the sudden movement when he grabbed her, Kristen relaxed after a moment, kissing him back, though she couldn’t help feeling a little embarrassed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” she reassured him.

“Come on, stay.” he said slurring slightly, his mouth moving to her neck. “Edssa big boy he can walk self home.” 

“I uh … I actually live quite far from here.” Ed said awkwardly. Maybe he should just leave, she wasn’t exactly stopping him. Maybe he was imposing. “I could … I could walk … I guess.” He said with a strange shrug. 

“Tom, that would be rude,” Kristen said, kissing him on the cheek again as she pulled away, blushing with embarrassment. “Of course I’m driving you home, Mr. Nygma.”

Edward nodded slightly as he backed away from the door, Tom rolling his eyes and stumbling away from Kristen. “Fine, whatever. See you tomorrow.” he said waving her off as he grabbed his beer off the counter and headed back into the living room. 

Kristen picked up her purse again and headed to the door, unable to help the feeling of disapproval. Tom really shouldn’t be drinking more right now … But it would be pointless to try to tell him that. She bid him good night as she and Edward made their way out.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said once they were outside, glancing over at Ed. “Tom can be … a lot sometimes.”

“I’ve noticed.” Edward said quietly, his hands wringing together nervously as they left the building and onto the sidewalk. “I um … I … I don’t know if you wanted to leave or not I suppose I shouldn’t have assumed I don’t know if I was just maybe taking things wrong or something I’ve been told that I sometimes don’t understand things the way that most people would and I just thought maybe you’d want to go home instead of being there so I … I mean … What I’m getting at is my car’s actually right there … I can … I can drive myself home. Or I can give you a ride home or … Or something?” He said in a long run on sentence, his nervousness making him talk faster, hoping he hadn’t read the situation wrong. “Or if you want to go back in you can say I caught a taxi I just … Thought you’d maybe want a reason to leave, I’m sorry if I got that wrong.” 

“No, Mr. Nygma,” Kristen reassured him with a small tired smile. “You were right. I … was starting to want to go home,” she said, putting it mildly. “And you handled that quite smoothly.” Surprisingly so, in fact.

“I did?” He asked with the first sincere smile she’d ever seen on him. 

“You did,” Kristen reaffirmed. “In fact, you were so subtle about it, that at first I didn’t even realize what you were doing.”

“Well I’m … I’m glad I did something right.” He said awkwardly. 

“I appreciate it,” Kristen said, looking up at him seriously. “Thanks.” She glanced away, feeling uncertain remembering his sidelong comment before, that she could do better. It had been a little out of line, but … she believed that he meant well, at least. “So … what do you want to do then, since your car is here? I could still drive you home if you like, but I don’t know how convenient that would be for you.”

“I can drive myself home. I haven’t drank that much and it’s been a while since my last.” He said shifting weirdly, almost nervously, as if he were scared to ask something. “Do you maybe … Uh …” 

“Do I?” Kristen repeated, wondering what was making him nervous now. But then, it seemed to be an almost constant state of being for him.

“Well, it’s just … It’s not too late yet and I’m in no hurry to get home. Doyoumaybewanttogetacoffeeorsomething?” He asked a bit too quickly, not looking at her as he asked. 

“I …” Kristen blinked. He had spoken so rapidly that it took a moment to process what he’d just said. “You just want to get coffee as friends, right?” she said cautiously. Nygma was starting to seem alright, really, but he had frequently misinterpreted things before. She didn’t want to risk that happening now.

Edward looked confused a moment, unsure of how to respond to that. “I’m sorry I’m … Not really understanding your question.” 

He sounded like he genuinely didn’t. “I mean it’s just coffee, and you’re aware that I’m not interested in anything else happening?”

“I can take you home after, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Ed said, his head tilted slightly with confusion. 

“That … would be fine,” Kristen said, shaking her head as she stifled a laugh. If he was that oblivious to what she was concerned about, then there was likely no need to worry. “I just didn’t want to risk giving off the wrong signals.”

“Signals?” Edward asked before his eyes widened. “Oh! You mean …. No no no. No I just meant … I …” He paused, clearly flustered once he’d understood. “I know you’re with Tom I would never-“ he paused his arms moving in a motion of finality. 

“It’s alright,” Kristen reassured him quickly, taking pity on his clear nervousness. She honestly wondered now how she hadn’t seen it before, that all of his strange and awkward behavior was just the product of nerves. “I believe you; I just wanted to be sure we understand each other.”

“Yes, yes of course. Maybe I should just … I’m sorry.” Edward said shakily. 

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Kristen told him firmly, before she gave him a reassuring smile. “Let’s go get that cup of coffee, shall we?”


	16. Chapter 16

Kristen closed her door behind her, half of her coffee in hand in a take out cup as she kicked off her shoes and tossed her keys onto the counter. It was nearly cold by now, having spent most of the evening talking with Mr. Nygma and it had been a rather delightful night. They didn’t talk about anything of importance, a few things about work before they’d decided to change the topic. They talked about movies, and video games, and he’d told her about a few shortcuts and cheats she could use in a few of the games she was working on. 

It made her wonder why she’d thought he was so creepy before. Now that he was opening up and talking, she wouldn’t say confident, but at least he wasn’t a nervous wreck anymore, he was actually a pleasure to speak to. She actually looked forward to seeing him tomorrow at work. Of course, as a friend. Strictly a friend. 

She took the lid off of her coffee cup as her phone buzzed in her bag. She placed the cup into the microwave and put it on 30 seconds before going over to her purse and pulling out her phone. 

‘1 New Text Message’ displayed across the screen and she flipped it open wondering if it was Mr. Nygma since they’d traded phone numbers at the end of the night. Testing out the number maybe. 

Instead, Fish’s number appeared on the screen, the message reading: “How’s life in Kristen Land?”

Kristen couldn’t help the smile that came to her face as she closed her phone and placed it down on the counter, the microwave beeping. She went over to it and pulled out her coffee before picking up her phone and heading into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She placed her coffee and her phone down on the bedside table and changed into her pajamas. She crawled into bed before picking up her phone again and taking a sip of her coffee. 

“Pretty good actually, I went out for coffee with a friend, just got home actually. How are you?” ‘How are you?’ She shook her head as she placed her phone back on the side table and crawled under the covers. How lame of a question is that? 

“Marvelous,” Fish responded promptly. Another text quickly followed: “The club is packed, and business is never boring in Gotham.” After a moment, another message appeared. “I’m glad you had a nice time with your friend. Anyone I might know?”

Kristen tapped her finger against the side of her phone, pondering if she should tell her. There was a chance she might know him, but if she didn’t did she really want to bring attention to him? She sighed as she started typing again. “A friend from the GCPD, we had a bit of a miscommunication since we met a few months back, we’ve since worked things out.” 

“That’s good,” Fish texted back. “Getting along with people at work makes life so much easier. And a girl can never have too many friends.”

“Well, that’s debatable. I’d rather have quality over quantity.” She texted back. 

“True. If only quality were easier to come by,” Fish responded, before a follow-up text inquired: “Do I make the cut?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Kristen said with a slight chuckle, hoping Fish would read that as a joke and not a serious comment. 

“Do I get another interview?” Fish responded. “I can provide my resume with excellent references.”

“Oh? And would these references be paid per chance?” She asked. 

“Of course,” Fish messaged backs. “One of the many perks of my friendship is the excellent bribes.”

“Mmm, I see. Well then how would I know if any of these references are telling the truth? Hmmm? I see no benefit in this plan.” 

“Who would be more qualified to tell you what an excellent friend I am than people who have already benefited from the perks of my friendship?” Fish quipped back. “If they lie, it’s only because they like me, which proves what an excellent friend I am.”

Kristen laughed slightly and shook her head. “Or it means they’re afraid of you, so on the other scale of things, you could be a terrible friend.” 

“Admittedly, I am quite terrifying,” Fish conceded. “Perhaps I should just do things the old-fashioned way and bribe you directly.”

“Oh, and how much will you be paying me?” Kristen asked chuckling again. Admittedly, Fish was rather funny and knew how to make a joke, even though she was sure a lot of people took her seriously. 

“Oh, let’s not cheapen this with talk of numbers,” Fish responded quickly. “I think something more personal would be in order. I would have much more fun getting to learn what you really want.”

“Oh? And what is it you think I really want?” Kristen stared at her phone instead of putting it down, waiting for the reply. She was curious about this one. She was very quick in her responses, and very precise with her answers. 

“Appreciation,” Fish said promptly. “And the occasional break from your stressful life. I think a nice spa day would be a good first bribe, don’t you think?”

“Oh my god, don’t even joke. I would looooove a spa day! I can’t afford it though, so I’ve never gone.” She said with a sigh. And after everything Fish had done for her already, she couldn’t accept that as well, if she did actually offer. 

“When is your next free weekend?” Fish messaged back. “I’ll book it. I know a place you’ll love.”

“I can’t, honestly I already owe you for so much.” Kristen replied. 

“Then come have a spa day with me,” Fish messages back without missing a beat, as if she had anticipated Kristen’s exact response. Perhaps she had. “I could use a little relaxation too, and you’re good company. If anything, I would owe you for joining me.”

“Why not invite Oswald? I’m sure he could use a spa day, that guy seems to be wound so tight he’ll explode if he gets any tighter.” 

“Somehow, I don’t think going to the spa with his boss would would make him any less tense,” Fish pointed out. “I like the way you think, though; we’d need to find someone else to send him with, though.”

“Really? Oswald? I thought he was just a lacky!” Kristen replied, actually wondering if Fish was considering doing that. Who exactly was this Oswald guy to her? 

“A good one,” Fish replied. “Competent, clever. He doesn’t have the confidence to reach his potential, though.”

“I can see that. He seems rather skittish. I didn’t picture him being too intelligent though, he seemed rather … Well, lacking when I spoke to him.” 

“His skittishness does get the better of him,” Fish acknowledged. “And sometimes I suspect he hides it intentionally. People aren’t as careful what they say around a simpleton.”

“So it’s an act then?” She asked. 

“On occasion, but not entirely,” Fish explained. “He really is a jittery little thing. Is it alright if I call? If you’re about to turn in, that’s fine.”

“You can call if you like. Though I probably should turn in soon.” She sent and rested the phone against her stomach, waiting for it to ring. Her hands shook with nerves as it rang, and she picked it up almost instantly. “Hello.” She said nervously. 

“Hi there,” Fish said, that charming smile of hers audible and her voice. “So, I can’t help noticing the subject has changed from your much-needed spa day. I wasn’t making you uncomfortable, was I?”

“A little. Not because you asked me, but because it’s so expensive.” She said turning onto her side in bed, the phone between her ear and the pillow. 

“You are terrible at taking bribes,” Fish scolded. “I want to treat you. You wouldn’t be putting me out in the slightest.”

“Are you sure?” She asked. “What do you want in return?” 

“Well, I think it would be fun to go with you,” Fish said simply. “I enjoy your company; I think I’ve made that clear.”

“Yes, you’ve made that rather clear.” Kristen said chuckling. “Okay, sure. I’m off on the weekends. I only work during the week.” 

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” Fish asked. “And would you prefer to do just a day trip, or could I convince you to come away for the whole weekend?”

“I don’t think the whole weekend would be a good idea, I’m sure Tom will want to do something with me this weekend, but a day would be nice.” Kristen said, looking at her phone as it buzzed. Seeing the battery flashing at 10% she plugged in her charger and plugged it into the phone without pulling it away from her ear. 

“Is Saturday better for you or Sunday?” Fish asked. “I can do either.” And she doubted she would have any trouble getting them to schedule a reservation for her.

“Saturday would probably be better. Tom usually goes out with his friends Saturday night anyway.” She said turning onto her back with a slight, unintentional groan. 

“What was the groan for?” Fish asked. “Not having second thoughts already, I hope?”

“No. Just long day at work. My body is protesting.” She said, stretching and winced when she heard more than felt her back crack in several places. 

“Well, just hang in there until this weekend; the spa should take care of that,” she reassured her. “Should I let you sleep?”

“Eh, Sleep is for the weak? Right?” Kristen asked, stretching out on her back. 

“That’s what we say in the nightclub business,” Fish mused. “Or at least ‘sleep during normal hours,’ anyway.”

“I’ve never worked at a nightclub before, but I imagine it’s got strange hours.” Kristen said. 

“Almost nocturnal,” Fish confirmed. “But one gets used to it.”

“I couldn’t imagine getting used to it.” She said. “I can’t even stay up past midnight most nights.” She said with a laugh. 

“Yes,” Fish acknowledged. “But by that point, you’re tired from having to get up in the morning. Eventually, your schedule resets and it works out.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Kristen said. “You’re not working tonight?” 

“Just making my rounds about the club,” Fish said. “Unless something unexpected comes up, I don’t have any more business meetings or excursions planned tonight.”

“Sounds thrilling.” Kristen said with a slight chuckle. “I thought being part of Gotham’s underworld was supposed to be you know … Exciting, and adventurous, and full of danger.” 

“That was earlier this afternoon,” Fish said, amusement in her voice. “I tend to call during the calmer moments. I wouldn’t want to be distracted while I’m talking to you.”

“Oh, well I’m flattered that I am granted your undivided attention.” She said with a soft smile. “I’m not sure exactly how entertaining that is but …” 

“I happen to find you perfectly entertaining,” Fish said. “You really should stop doubting yourself.”

“Yes, I’ve been told that. ‘Confidence is sexy’ and all that.” She said shaking her head. 

“You’re sexy regardless,” Fish told her without missing a beat. “The confidence is more for your own benefit.”

Kristen couldn’t help the bush at her words, even though Fish couldn’t see her, she felt that familiar warmth in her cheeks. She seemed to do that a lot with her. “I … don’t know what to say.” She said shyly. 

“Just accept it,” Fish said warmly, sounding pleased with the effects her words had on Kristen. “If you ever realized just how true it is, you’d be unstoppable.”

Kristen laughed slightly. “Unstoppable hmm?” She asked. “I wonder who’s trying to stop me.” 

“In my experience, there’s always someone,” Fish said.

“Well, you aren’t wrong.” She said before stretching. “Anyway, I have to work tomorrow and I should probably get some form of beauty rest tonight.” 

“I wouldn’t want to keep you from that,” Fish said pleasantly. “And I should probably get back to making the rounds. Have a good sleep.”

“You as well.” Kristen said with a soft smile. “Whenever that is.” She said with a slight laugh before hanging up the phone and tossing it back onto the side dresser. 


End file.
